


Athena Project

by silmarilz1701



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Angst and Humor, Band of Brothers References, Best Care Anywhere, Episode: s08e17 Heal Thyself, Episode: s08e25 April Fools, F/M, Feminist Themes, Found Family, Hawkeye Pierce has Commitment Issues, Hawkeye learned his lesson about not being sexist, Korean War, Medical Trauma, Off-Screen Characters, Panic Attacks, Period-Typical Sexism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-World War II, Psychological Trauma, Screaming Eagles, Serious Injuries, Slow Burn, Tragedy/Comedy, Trust Issues, War, female surgeon - Freeform, what if
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-03-07 04:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 59,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18865498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silmarilz1701/pseuds/silmarilz1701
Summary: When Major Nellie O'Hara landed in South Korea, she didn't know exactly what to expect. Being one of five surgeons in a classified military experiment called the Athena Project, she only knew she'd face the discrimination of her gender. After all, in the States a woman surgeon was extremely rare; in the military it was unheard of.But with the war in its second full year and surgeons hard to come by, the military secretly allowed five women to enlist and serve in Tokyo, Seoul, and for Nellie, a Mobile Army Surgical Hospital. She used her time in Tokyo to read up on the 4077th. They were well known for their incredible 97.8% survival rate. But all the reports in the world couldn't prepare her for the antics, the personalities, the acceptance, and the tragedies of the 4077th.Friday March 21, 1952Uijeongbu, South KoreaM*A*S*H* 4077thBest Care Anywhere





	1. O*N*E

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note (Historical): The Athena Project is fictional. Women were only allowed to serve in Korea at MASH units as nurses. Some UN nations had female surgeons, but the USA did not.
> 
> Author's Note (M*A*S*H): Fic begins in Season 8, after episode Private Finance. As with all things M*A*S*H, the canon timeline is somewhat flexible.

**Friday - March 21, 1952**

**Kimpo Air Base, Seoul, South Korea**

She knew that as soon as she set foot in the Officers' Club, the disapproving glances would start. Nellie was no stranger to judgement. Being one of the extremely few female surgeons in the United States invited rude glances. Here in Kimpo, as long as she kept her profession under wraps, she could pass as a nurse. That would help some.

The sun had just risen about an hour ago, the same time she stepped off her flight from Tokyo. As she left the cool, breezy outdoors and stepped into the small, dark "O" Club, she stood still. A gentle korean voice hummed over the radio. To her left, the clinking of glasses signaled the bartender preparing for the day.

"One scotch." Nellie slid onto a bar stool. As the bartender reached for her drink, she looked around. Three other officers sat around the bar. Two shared a table in the corner, and another sat at the other end of the bar.

With a quick glance at her watch, she figured she had time for just this drink. Her ride to the 4077th was arriving in ten minutes. The scotch burned ever so slightly as it went down and she smiled. Nothing quite like the bite of scotch.

Nellie continued to sip on her drink as the minutes passed. The Officers' Club remained quiet, with the hum of the radio in the background the only real noise. Over at the other end of the bar, the colonel that Nellie had seen was now watching her carefully. She ventured a glance at him, raised her glass to her lips, and drank while turning away. She had no interest in catching his interest.

The watch on her wrist read 7:30. Nellie quickly paid her tab and made her way out into the air base compound. She held a suitcase in each hand. A few jeeps drove to and fro. Only two weeks into her stay in the East and she was already beginning to tire of olive drab.

As she stood looking around for nothing in particular, a jeep drove up in front of the Officers' Club. The man in the jeep looked around her before finally venturing his question when he seemed to notice her Major's clusters. "You wouldn't happen to be Major O'Hara would you?"

"That's me. Major Nellie O'Hara, surgeon." After a moment she smiled. "You seem to be expecting someone else."

He saluted. "Pardon me, Major, but you're a lot prettier than we were expecting. I don't think I've ever heard of a woman surgeon in the Army." He hopped out of the jeep. Rounding the front, he held out a hand to take her bags. "Corporal Max Klinger, MASH 4077th Company Clerk."

Nellie handed Klinger one of her two bags. "Pleasure to meet you," she said. Together they put her suitcases in the back of the jeep. "So, company clerk eh? Any inside information you can give me about the unit before I show up?" She flashed him a smile. "I like to know what I'm getting into before I jump in."

"Ah if information is what you need, I'm your man," Klinger joked. As they both hopped into the jeep, he shook his head. "Enlisted men always know the ins and outs."

With a laugh, Nellie adjusted her long, dark brown hair so that even the wind from their drive couldn't shove the hair into her face. Her mom had always told her she had inherited the "Irish Black" hair of her father's side. Whatever the case, she had always liked how her hair went with her blue eyes. What she didn't like right then was the stiffness of the brown formal uniform skirt she had been forced into wearing. It made the jeep drive uncomfortable.

"So, what do you want to know, Major?" Klinger asked as they drove off down the road towards Uijeongbu.

She shrugged. Adjusting her hat again, Nellie took a long look at the terrain around them. Dusty roads, small clusters of trees and shrubs, and a lot of rocks made up the majority of the sight. Finally she turned back to Klinger. "Who will I be working with?"

"Colonel Potter is our C.O. He's regular army, but don't hold it against him," he added quickly. "The Colonel's a good guy! I don't know if he knows you're you. That could throw him for a loop."

"He probably doesn't," Nellie replied. "I'll have more information on my job for him when I talk to him."

Klinger looked at her briefly, turning his gaze from the road. Then he continued. "There are three other surgeons. Captain Pierce is Chief Surgeon. He's great. So is Captain Hunnicutt. But watch out of them- they like to play practical jokes on everyone. No one is safe."

She laughed. "Who's the third?"

"Major Charles Emerson Winchester the Third." Klinger's grin fell slightly. "He's an excellent surgeon."

Nellie smirked and looked away. The unspoken hint at a lack of comment on the Major's character provided all the detail she needed. As the countryside passed them by, she fell silent. It wasn't until they had almost reached camp that she spoke again. "Looks like rain," she muttered.

Klinger scowled. "I wouldn't be surprised. Let's hope it holds off for another fifteen minutes. We're almost to camp."

The rain didn't hold off. The clouds opened a few minutes later. Klinger apologized for not having anything for her to cover her clothes with. She brushed him off.

"It's just a little rain," she assured him. Nellie looked up and saw a wooden sign over the road. It read 'MASH 4077th Best Care Anywhere'. She smiled.

Because of the rain, she only caught sight of a few people. A few men ran across the compound to a massive tent. She guessed it was the Mess Tent. Klinger pulled in front of a large building. Unlike everything else, this had walls and was not made of canvas. She hurried out of the jeep, Klinger close behind with her bags.

She breathed a sigh of relief when they stepped inside what she guessed to be the clerical office. A bed took up one corner, and a desk with cabinets and machinery lined the rest of the room. Two rooms branched off, both with swiveling double doors. Klinger placed her bags near the door to the outside and turned to her.

"I'll go tell the Colonel that you're here. They're all probably inside," he said. Then he ducked through the closer double doors.

Nellie could hear chatter in the next room. Her breathing began to heighten and her palms started to sweat. In her mind she went over and over all possible insults that could be thrown her way. Nothing would catch her off guard.

Klinger reappeared. He nodded and gestured for her to enter. She plastered a smile on her face and straightened her uniform. If she was going to be forced to wear this stupid dress uniform, the least she could do was make it look fantastic.

She walked through the door, resolute, chin held high. To her right near the windowed wall sat two men. In chairs before her were two more men and a blonde woman. Klinger took up a spot to the left. But behind the desk sat the older man with the Colonel's eagle on his uniform.

"Major Nellie O'Hara reporting as ordered, sir," she said with a quick salute. She could feel all eyes on her. Inwardly she cursed her dripping wet hair that fell down her back and sides to below her bra line. She feared she looked a mess.

He saluted back. "At ease, Major. Klinger wasn't lying when he said we'd be surprised!" He glanced sidelong at his smirking company clerk. "I'm Colonel Potter. You'll have to excuse the looks around the room. It isn't exactly common for a woman surgeon to be in a MASH unit."

Nellie laughed before she caught herself. "Apologies, Colonel. What you really mean to say is what the hell am I doing here, and how did they let me into the army?" She reached into her chest pocket and pulled out folded papers. "You'll find enclosed a summary of the Athena Project. I hope you're not too disappointed to find out I'm a woman. I assure you I won't disappoint."

"Trust me we aren't disappointed," said a dark haired man sitting on some boxes.

At his comment, the Colonel looked up from the missive Nellie had handed him. "Ah, let me introduce the crew. Here we have our chief surgeon, Captain Pierce," said Colonel Potter. He gestured to the man who had just spoken.

"Hawkeye."

After she shook his hand, Colonel Potter turned to a blonde haired man with a funny bushy mustache next to Hawkeye. "This is Captain Hunnicutt-"

"BJ."

Again she shook hands. After that, she met Major Charles Winchester, Captain Father Francis Mulcahy, and finally Major Margaret Houlihan. Nellie grinned when she shook Margaret's hand.

"So, Colonel, what's in the papers?" Hawkeye prompted.

He shrugged. "I haven't gotten through it. But it seems I'm permitted to share it with my staff. Major, would you like to explain?" He looked up at Nellie.

"Of course." After a pause she nodded. "It's certainly no secret that the army is desperate for surgeons. They'll take anyone. Any man, at least. About a year ago after peace talks broke down, a project was introduced called Athena. Athena being the Greek goddess of battle and strategy."

"Charming," Charles commented.

She looked around before continuing, ignoring his comment. "The Athena Project asked five women surgeons if they would enlist in the army and be sent here to the Korean war. There aren't many of us as it is, but it was an honor to be invited to represent us who are both surgeon and woman."

"Not to honor your country," quipped Hawkeye.

She dignified that with a hard look. "My opinions on this war aren't up for discussion at the current time." She sent him a fake smile and turned back to Colonel Potter. "From what I've been able to see, there are two opinions on the Athena Project in the army higher ups. The ones who introduced the decision are hopeful that they can tap into small but useful sect of women doctors. The other group is hoping we'll fail and bar women doctors from serving for as long as possible. I insisted on going to a MASH unit."

"And they sent you here?" Margaret asked. "There are other units more pressed for surgeons."

She looked around. "They chose the 4077th because you have the best record. They're hoping I'll make your record drop as proof of our unfitness to serve. I intend to prove them wrong."

 


	2. T*W*O

  
“Klinger, why don't you show the Major to her tent.” Colonel Potter shot her a big smile. “Once you're settled and this rain has stopped, someone can show you 'round the place.” He stood from his desk chair and offered a hand.

Nellie shook it. With a smile and a nod, she glanced briefly around at the staff. Then she turned back. “Thank you, Colonel.”

Klinger moved to show her out. He led the way, grabbing her bags from his office. On his way out he pushed a baseball cap over his hair. Nellie followed close behind him. As they stepped outside into the rain, her heels began to sink into the muddy ground. She hurried herself forward.

The tent that Klinger showed her wasn't far from the large building. He took her to a long row of square tents. A few signs identified the various occupants. The one marked ‘Major O'Hara’ stood with ‘Major Houlihan’ on her left and 'VIP Tent’ to the right. Klinger opened the door, went inside, and held it for her.

“Here's your tent, Major. Major Houlihan's next door if you need anything.” He placed her suitcases on the ground. With a nod and a quick smile, he went to leave. He turned and said, “Oh! Your mail might take a week or two to show up. But find me if you need to send a telegram stateside to let your family know you settled in!”

“Thanks Corporal!” She smiled and nodded. “I'll let you know.”

As Klinger left her tent, she placed the lock across the door. More than anything, she wanted to get out of the dress uniform and into fatigues. Nellie hoisted one of her suitcases onto her bed and unzipped it. Slowly she pulled out her clothes. Mostly fatigues, she took one set and put it to the side before hanging up the rest in the stand up closet. Next went her boots. These she placed on the floor at the foot of her bed.

A few civilian pieces followed. One, a Hawaiian shirt, light aqua blue with pink, white, and green flowers and leaves, had been a parting gift from her older brother Jack. He had spent some time in the military stationed in Honolulu. It had been his favorite shirt. Nellie took it gladly as a reminder of her best friend. As she unpacked it, she hung it on her wall from a nail and smiled.

Besides the Hawaiian shirt, she took out some khaki shorts, a set of cropped capris, and a few simple blouses. One pair of black flats soon sat at the bottom of the standing closet. With her clothing unpacked and put away, she moved the empty suitcase under her bed.

Soon fatigues replaced her brown and tan dress uniform, and boots traded places with her heels. Nellie used a small towel to ring out her hair, but it still cascaded messily down her upper body. Relieved to be out of her heels, she decided it time to unpack her other items.

From her second suitcase she took out her toiletries, a small desk mirror, a crocheted blanket, and a few reminders of home. Her framed diploma from med school went to lean against her tent wall from her desk. Nellie set a locked wooden box on her side table under the lamp. Inside was her crystal rosary, her Miraculous Medal, and a prayer card for the Sacred Heart of Jesus. As a practicing Catholic, Nellie had been glad to see a priest in the outfit. Next, a few beloved books became stacked on her bedside table and desk.

At last she took out an engraved shot glass. Nellie smiled down at the inscriptions. On one side it said ‘Ad Infinitum, Ad Meliora,’ meaning ‘to infinity, towards better things.’ On the opposite side, the inscription read, ‘Alis Volat Propriis.’

“She flies with her own wings,” murmured Nellie aloud, translating the Latin text. With a smile, she ran her finger over the engraving. As she stood there in her tent, staring down at the shot glass, a knock sounded on her door. Nellie shook herself and unlocked the door. When she opened it, she was pleasantly surprised to find the rain had stopped. At her door stood BJ and Hawkeye. She nodded. “Captains.”

“Please, don't call him Captain. It'll go to his head,” BJ said.

Hawkeye rolled his eyes and laughed. But he nodded. “Hawkeye's fine. And he's just BJ.”

“We don't stand on protocol here,” BJ added.

“What does BJ stand for?”

“Anything you like.”

Nellie didn't miss the smirks on both the men's faces. She stood away from the door and let them inside. Having spent nearly her entire schooling surrounded by men, she felt entirely comfortable around them. She moved her second suitcase under her bed, placing the shot glass on her desk.

“You drink?” Hawkeye asked. He grinned, trying to make out the inscription.

She turned from the bed and looked at him in confusion. She followed his pointing. “Oh the shot glass.” Nellie smiled. “I went to med school. Of course I drink. How else would I have gotten through residency?” Walking over to the desk, she picked up the glass. “When my friend Molly Monahan and I finished up at Johns Hopkins with our degrees, we got matching glasses with our favorite Latin phrases. They were our battle cries.”

BJ looked at the glass as she passes it over. “To infinity, towards better things.” Then he turned it over. “She flies with her own wings. Catchy.”

Nellie laughed. “We thought so. I don't go anywhere without it now.”

“Hey, listen, why don't we, uh, show you around the place,” Hawkeye suggested. “I'm a good guide. Very thorough.”

“I don't doubt.”

Nellie had seen plenty of young doctors like this Hawkeye back in Baltimore. During her residency at Johns Hopkins Hospital, she'd worked with one Dr. Matthew Douglass. He had tried everything to get with the nurses at the hospital. Nellie had just watched him work in amusement. Hawkeye striked her as a similar type.

“So is it a yes?” he asked with a smirk.

When she nodded in agreement, BJ opened the door for them. Hawkeye went first. Nellie followed after him. With BJ to her left and Hawkeye to her right, she made her way across the compound back towards the main building.

“You said you went to Johns Hopkins?” asked BJ.

She nodded. “Yes. And then I did my residency at the Hospital there.”

“That's a prestigious school.”

With a small smile, she nodded. As they entered Klinger's office, Hawkeye told her about the building. Besides the Colonel's office, it also housed all the main hospital areas: Op, Post Op, Pre Op, X-Ray, and Scrub Rooms.

“This is our wonderful pre-op. After triage outside, the cases get moved in here. The worst off go first.”

Nellie watched as he grew serious when talking about their job. She appreciated that. Pre Op was small compared to their next stop. But it got the job done, she supposed.

“Onto the main operation,” said Hawkeye. When she chuckled at his pun, he grinned. They walked into the Operating Room. “It's strictly meatball surgery. Nothing fancy.”

“Anyone have a specific table they love,” she asked curiously.

BJ laughed. “No time. You'll be moving between them too frequently to form attachments.”

“Good. Then I won't be treading on anyone.”

“What BJ said. Free hands switch to the next patient.” Hawkeye led them through the Operating Room. On the other side he showed her the scrub and changing rooms all divided by hanging curtains. “Typically one surgeon will be on triage while the rest of us scrub up.”

Nellie nodded. She looked around the women's changing area. Someone had already put up a little sign with her name on it over a new nail. Margaret had a space next to her, and five nurse hooks followed that.

“On to Post Op,” BJ prompted.

They left the building and traipsed outside. Nellie looked around and saw a few nurse chatting on their way to the Mess Tent. She sent them a smile which they returned with some whispering. She turned back to the doctors. “How many do you, uh do we, typically have in Post Op at a time?”

“Anywhere from one to eighteen, depending on the severity of cases and available Evac,” BJ told her. “We try to ship out the least concerning cases after we fix them. The 121st takes most of our cases that don't stay here.”

Hawkeye opened the door to Post Op. Charles and Margaret stood chatting about a patient near the desk. They turned to look at the intrusion.

Nellie looked around the room. Only five beds were occupied. One held a Turkish soldier, and the other four were American. She smiled at them.

“Ah, Major.” Charles stood from the desk. Both he and Margaret joined them at the center of Post Op. “Hopefully these two immature ingrates haven't been too terrible of guides.”

Nellie shook her head. “They've both been very helpful.” She went to gesture to Hawkeye only to find him chatting quietly with a dark haired nurse near the door they'd just entered. She slightly rolled her eyes as she heard something about a supply room and a date.

Margaret saw her expression and shook her head. “How about we grab lunch together, Major?”

“Please, Nellie is fine. I've only been in the Army for a few months at this point.” She nodded. “I'd love to grab lunch with you, Major.”

“Call me Margaret.” Margaret smiled. “Then if these three can spare us, I'll show you the Mess Tent.”

“Have fun,” BJ said with a smirk.

Nellie and Margaret left the three other surgeons in Post Op quickly. The head nurse showed her to the doors again and they walked across the compound. Now that the rain had stopped, a gentle warmth seemed to rise from the ground. Nellie could even see the steam.

“Hopefully Pierce wasn't too…”

“Direct?” finished Nellie with a small smile. “I’m familiar with his type. I think he'll find I'm used to people like him.”

Margaret chuckled. She opened the door to the Mess Tent for Nellie and together they got in line. “He won't give up, you know. He never does. You can be ankle deep in used sponges and blood during surgery and he'll still manage to make a pass at you.”

“Determined, isn't he?” Nellie just laughed. She picked up her metal tray and stood behind Margaret. The smell of the food already had her stomach doing somersaults. “This is certainly one part of going to a MASH unit that I wasn't looking forward to. The food in Tokyo was pretty good.”

“Yes. The food there is leagues better than here. Here you're lucky if the food doesn't poison you.”

Nellie looked at her in alarm. “Really?”

Margaret just shrugged. As they had food piled onto their trays, they moved down the line. Coffee was the one item Nellie looked forward to. Once they had their food together, they took up a spot at an empty table to eat.

 


	3. T*H*R*E*E

Nellie picked at her food. She used her fork to move the creamed corn around its tray compartment. She looked up. Margaret watched her with a smile. With a sigh, Nellie shook her head. “I'm sure I'll get used to it.”

Margaret nodded. “You will.” With a smile she began eating. Cold cuts, corn, and peas made for a less than scrumptious meal, but she couldn't afford to be picky.

“So, what's it like here?” Nellie glanced around. A group of nurses sat at a table across the main aisle of the Mess Tent. A few Orderlies had another one.

Margaret shrugged. “It depends on the day. When we get wounded, shifts can last as long as fifty hours.”

“Do personnel rotate?”

“We take turns grabbing a bit of rest.” She took another bite before continuing. “But often the surgeons will do twelve to fifteen hours straight.”

Nellie nodded. Clearly she would need to be prepared for extended hours on her feet. Ten hours was typical when at Johns Hopkins, and she hoped that had prepared her well enough. After shoveling a bit more food into her mouth, she continued. “And when there isn't wounded?”

“Everyone deals with the boredom differently. I try to get as much done as possible: laundry, hair, nails, letters home. Pierce and Hunnicutt drink and play pranks. Poker is a favorite past time here. We host a poker game every other Friday in the Swamp.”

“The Swamp?”

Margaret nodded. “It's what Pierce named the surgeons’ tent when he arrived. It stuck. Good name for it, too; it's a complete disaster.”

“Think they'd let me in on the next poker game?” Nellie tried to stop herself from smirking. Her brother had taught her to play back before he attended college, when she was just in high school. After she went to Cambridge for pre-med, it came in handy.

Margaret nodded. “Definitely. Any new money is welcome. There's a game tonight, actually.”

“Good.”

As they both returned to their food, Hawkeye, BJ, and Colonel Potter all showed up with their own trays. Hawkeye sat beside Margaret and BJ across from him, next to Nellie. The head of the table rightfully went to the Colonel.

“So, Major, how'd the tour go?” Colonel Potter asked. He smiled as he reached to grab the pepper.

“Everyone's been very helpful. I can’t wait to be of help in turn,” she said.

Margaret smiled and finished chewing. She put her fork down and turned to the other surgeons. “Nellie plays poker.”

“Oh?” Hawkeye smirked at her. “We’ve got a game set up tonight.”

“So I hear.” She gave a little smile. Then she nodded. “I want in.”

BJ laughed. “Trust me. Anyone with money is welcome.”

“Considering you just got here from the outside world, you’ve probably got a pretty penny,” Hawkeye added.

Nellie laughed. She made no comment as she finished her meal. She stood from the table alongside Margaret and bid them goodbye. She told them she needed to finish unpacking. What she really wanted was a nap. Once Margaret showed her where to stash her tray, Nellie made her way to her tent.

She welcomed the solitude. As the door closed behind her, she took off her boots. She eased into bed. Nellie found it ironic that the bed she had here felt like her dorm bed in pre med; she had vowed to never suffer that again. Yet here she was, halfway around the world and still suffering the terrible beds of her youth.

After a while, Nellie sighed. She kicked off her blanket sat up. Her gaze traveled to her shot glass that still sat on the desk across from her bed. With a little smile, she stood up and pulled the second suitcase out from under her bed. Two bottles and a bottle opener still sat inside. One was scotch, one was vodka. She pulled out the scotch and opened it. Nellie poured herself a full glass.

“Here’s to you, Molly.” She held the glass out. “We may be almost six thousand miles apart and separated by oceans, war, and time zones… but you’re in my heart. Always.” She smiled and lifted the drink higher. “To infinity, towards better things.”

She downed the scotch in one gulp. The burning caused her eyes to water ever so slightly. Twelve year old scotch never failed to make her feel better. Nellie considered taking Klinger up on his offer to send a telegram out, but she was tired.

In the end, Nellie decided to take a walk around the camp. She hoped it would get her blood flow moving. There was more to the 4077th than the buildings, after all. With a glance at the clock, she was surprised to find it to be almost 1500 hours. She’d slept for longer than she meant to.

When Nellie opened her door, she saw that a pickup basketball game had been started. Several nurses seemed to be playing against some of the corpsmen. She leaned against her door and watched them. Besides the nurses and corpsmen playing, many of the lieutenants and enlisted surrounded the game to watch. Their cheers made Nellie smile.

She caught the eye of two nurses. One, a young asian woman, shorter and stouter than the others Nellie had seen thus far, nudged the other, a pale woman with freckles and black hair in braided pigtails. They both smiled at Nellie and waved. She waved back. It pleasantly surprised her when they made their way over.

“Major O’Hara, right?” asked the first. She didn’t salute, and it didn’t bother Nellie in the least.

“That’s me!”

“I’m Lieutenant Yamato, but everyone calls me Kellye.” She extended her hand and they shook. She had a warm smile on her face and then gestured to her friend who stood only a few inches taller, about the same as Nellie.

The second nurse shook her hand as well. “I’m Lieutenant Shari Saba, call me Shari.”

“Then call me Nellie.” She grinned and gestured to the basketball game. “That’s a good way to pass the time. You won’t catch me playing though!”

Kellye laughed. “Ah come on. I’m sure you’d be great!”

“I’ll stick to beating the men in surgery, not on the court,” she joked.

With a laugh, Kellye agreed. “It’s nice to see a woman surgeon. Though I wouldn’t trade my nursing for anything.”

“Neither would I,” Shari added. “But why should the boys have all the fun?”

Nellie grinned wide. She agreed with them. A great roar of excitement went up from the makeshift basketball game. The three women watched as the corpsmen scored again. Nellie then turned to Kellye and Shari. “I was going to check the camp out. I’ve only seen my tent and the hospital!”

“We could show you,” Kellye said. “There’s not too much to see, though.”

Shari nodded. “Yeah, why don’t we show you around?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Nellie followed Kellye and Shari past her tent. The women told her that the chopper pads were just at the top of the hill. They went up the steps that had been carved into the hill and soon enough, reached the pad.

“The most severe cases are flown here by chopper,” Shari explained. “It’s faster than by ambulance.”

“Usually one of the medical teams will meet the choppers, sometimes two, and another team will stay at the compound for ambulance casualties,” said Kellye.

Nellie nodded. “Makes sense.” She looked around at the pad. There was space for two helicopters, easily. Near the road up to the pad someone had left a wooden table and six chairs. In other corners were crates and materials. Then she looked out over the compound. “Nice view.”

Kellye and Shari followed her gaze. They all stood quietly, watching the clouds float by in the blue sky. But Kellye soon nodded, and turned to Nellie. “I used to think that too. Then I realized that over there’s the minefield.”

Silence reigned again. Nellie let that sink in. She had done her best to prepare for the reality of what she was here doing, but the knowledge that there was a minefield right next to a hospital caused her more anger than she’d expected. She turned away from the view. “What’s next?”

Kellye looked at her sadly. “You’ll get used to it.”

“What?”

“To the war.”

Shari agreed. “For better or worse, it becomes normal.”

Nellie didn't respond. She turned back towards the minefield one more time. Then she gestured for the two nurses to lead on. They obliged.

“The Swamp is where the other surgeons sleep,” Kellye said. She gestured to a large tent across from the hospital, the closest sleeping quarters to the main building.

“Is it really as messy as Margaret was implying to me?”

Shari laughed. She nodded and gestured for Nellie to keep walking. Next, they showed her the Officers’ Club.

“We don't restrict it to officers,” Kellye added. “Enlisted are just as welcome.”

After showing her Colonel Potter's tent by the other end of the hospital, Kellye and Shari directed her back past the Swamp and Post Op.

“Showers, Enlisted latrine, Officers’ Latrine, and Laundry,” said Shari.

They walked by each tent and building. Nellie made mental notes of each one. After Kellye and Shari showed her the supply shed and tent, they wrapped back around to the personnel tents. Behind Major Houlihan's tent were three nurse tents, and near those were six corpsman tents. In front of all those, on the opposite side of Margaret's tent stood Father Mulcahy's.

Nellie stopped in front of her own tent. It was nearly dinner time. The basketball game had split up, and now a few corpsmen stood throwing a baseball around. She looked at her watch. “What time does the Mess Tent start serving food?”

Shari looked at her own watch. “Four-thirty. So in about half an hour.”

Nellie nodded. She turned to both women and smiled. “Thank you both for showing me around. Dare I say you're better company than the surgeons?” she joked.

“Of course we are,” Kellye teased. “We're women!”

Nellie shook her head with a smile. “In all honesty, they don't seem like a bad bunch. What do you two think of them? Off the record of course.”

Shari smiled. “There a good group of guys. They're all really smart, and kind.”

“Except Major Winchester,” said Kellye. “He thinks he's above everybody else.”

“Though he did honor his debts last September after he lost the baseball bet,” Shari reminded her. “I thought he might've backed out.”

Kellye nodded. “That's true.” She turned back to Nellie. “Really they're all wonderful. Watch out for Hawkeye and BJ though. They'd sooner prank you than do pretty much anything else.”

“So I've been told.”

“And the Colonel is really nice.” Kellye gestured over in the general direction of the hospital. “We were all worried he'd be overly strict after our previous C.O. Henry Blake left.”

“Rest his soul,” murmured Shari.

“Amen.”

“What happened to him?”

Kellye frowned. “He got orders to go home. His plane was shot down over the Sea of Japan and he was killed.”

“How awful.” Nellie shook her head. “Well, I'm going to get ready for dinner. Thank you again.”

“No problem!” Kellye said.  
As they left, Nellie ducked into her tent. She sat down on her bed and yawned. With half an hour to kill, she decided to write a letter to her brother. The incoming mail might've been stuck for awhile, but outgoing worked well enough.

“Dear Jack…”


	4. DEAR JACK

_Dear Jack,_

_By the time you read this, you should've gotten one from my time in Honolulu. I'll say it again though! You weren't lying when you used to rave about Hawaii. That state is pure beauty. It's a miracle you ever came back to the mainland after you finished your job._

_After Honolulu, I was sent to Tokyo with the other four women. All of them are brilliant. I know I've said that before too, but really. You know how hard I fought to get into Johns Hopkins. Well one of them, Dr. Lauren Hunstman, was named a Major immediately upon entering the service because she'd spent residency there during World War Two. It was even harder to get in then!_

_That being said, her bedside manner could use some work. I watched her at Tokyo General where she's been stationed. Same with Captain Cynthia Sydenstricker. In fact the only one of the surgeons I really got along with was Captain Marjorie Thomas. She's from Arizona, and did her residency in California somewhere. I can't recall now. She reminds me a little bit of Molly. She got stationed in Seoul along with Captain Catherine Halloran._

_Big news of the letter, I suppose, is that I'm a Major now! I outrank you now. I got the promotion after saving a choking general during a dinner in Tokyo the day after I arrived. Some Lt. Col. nurse was in attendance and heard about what I did, and she pushed the promotion through. I think they did it for press reasons. She must've had some connections up high._

_Regardless, I'm a Major now. I'm also now in the 4077th! I've been here about half a day now. I arrived at the Kimpo Air Base this morning and caught a ride with the company clerk to the MASH unit. As I write you, I'm sitting at the desk in my tent. It's small, but I can't complain. At least I'm bunking by myself, unlike my apartment back in Baltimore. Odds are if I had to bunk, I'd have a roommate like old Sally Hudgins, and I wouldn't luck out with a Molly instead._

_Speaking of that little devil, my next letter will be to Molly. I have your Hawaiian shirt hanging on my wall and her matching shot glass below it. I already broke it in; I managed to pick up some inexpensive twelve year old scotch in Tokyo along with some vodka._

_I can hear you now telling me to be careful. You know I always am. But drinking has seemed like a national pass time since arriving in the East. I have to fit in. And yes, I am grinning like a crazy looking at that sentence. I can hear you rebuking it. Fine. I don't feel the need to fit in. But hey, good scotch!_

_I've met a few nurses and the surgeons so far. All of them seem very nice. I wish I had more to tell you, but I haven't done enough with any of them to form a full opinion yet. One of the doctors reminds me of Matt Douglass. Yes, that Matt Douglass. The one you offered to send a threatening phone call to if he didn't stop propositioning me. I'll remind you now of what I said then: I can take care of myself. Besides, phone calls to Korea are a lot harder to get. I'd rather you talk to me than Hawkeye._

_The commanding officer is Colonel Potter. Everyone who's talked about him say he's great. And so far I would agree with them. Upstanding citizen, caring, but strict. Sort of like dad was. Then there's Major Charles Winchester. Not many people seem to like him, but so far he's been nothing but cordial to me. Captain BJ Hunnicutt is the last of the surgeons. Quiet, but clever. I heard him and Hawkeye making expert puns and jokes to each other in the compound when some of the nurses showed me around._

_You'll be proud to know I'll be taking part in a poker game tonight. Apparently it happens every other Friday. And who knows how many other times during the week when it isn't organized? I hope to do you proud. I also promise not to lose all my money. Maybe just some of it._

_Well it's nearly dinner time. I'd better say goodbye. I might send you a second letter tomorrow with the outcome of the poker game. I love you Jack. I miss you. I'll write soon, and maybe even call if I get a chance._

_Love,_

_Nellie O'Hara_

 


	5. F*O*U*R

_“Love, Nellie O'Hara,”_ Nellie finished.

With a small smile, she folded the papers up and stuck them in an envelope. She gave a quick lick of the flap and sealed it. Then she took her pen and addressed it to Jackson O'Hara at 2614 E Baltimore Street in Maryland, USA. Nellie placed the finished envelope in the corner of her desk.

She stood and stretched. Dinner had started ten minutes previous. For the first time since the whirlwind of being assigned to Korea, she felt truly alone. In the Baltimore she'd lived with her brother and worked with men and women she considered good friends. Then in Honolulu and Tokyo she'd had the other four women surgeons. That had offered some camaraderie even if they hadn't all gotten along. Here she was starting over. On her way out, she grabbed her copy of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

When she opened the door of her tent, Nellie took a few moments to just look around and breathe. She stood at her door, leaning against it. A little brown and white dog ran past the basketball hoop. Nellie smiled. Small groups of nurses and corpsmen made their unhurried way across the compound to the Mess Tent. None paid any attention to her. She certainly didn't mind.

Nellie made her way towards the Mess Tent alone. She enjoyed the opportunity to observe the workings of the 4077th without the distraction of a guide. One thing she noticed immediately. The nurses stuck together. This didn't surprise Nellie in the least, knowing full well how hard it could be to be a woman in a male-oriented world. Finding a good female friendship could mean a world of difference. But then, making friendships with the men in her field had provided her unique opportunities to advance her career. By the end of her time at Johns Hopkins University, she had felt equally comfortable being “one of the boys” as “one of the girls.”

As she entered the Mess Tent, she scooted into line. A few corpsmen she hadn't seen yet flanked her to either side. As she picked up her tray, she felt the stares of many of the occupants on her. She didn't know if her feels were real or imagined. As always, she kept her head high regardless.

She heard the men in front of her addressing the server as Igor. He wore private's stripes on his fatigues. She flashed him a strained smile.

“I'll just have toast,” Nellie said. As he plopped two slices of relatively pleasant looking toast onto her tray, she moved down the line. A cup of coffee and toast would be fine.

An unoccupied table sat diagonal from the serving station. Nellie headed there. The Mess wasn't very full yet, and she didn't see anyone she recognized. As she sat sipping her coffee and chewing on toast, she started reading her book. Molly had gifted it to her, insisting she read it. Molly knew how much Nellie loved C.S. Lewis's book The Screwtape Letters, and suggested she try his new fantasy series.

A few minutes later and the sound of two trays slamming on her table jolted her focus away from the book. She glanced up. Hawkeye had sat across from her, BJ next to him. Moments later, Klinger took up Hawkeye's other side.

“I see you've discovered how delicious our food is here,” BJ joked. He gestured to her remaining piece of toast with his fork.

Nellie cracked a smile. She closed her book and put it on the seat beside her. “I've had better.”

“I'd hope so,” Hawkeye said. “I've had better even in college. I've had better in garbage dumps! This is a crime!” He sniffed a fork full of coleslaw. “This is... this is disgraceful. It gets worse every day!”

“Ready to revolt again, sir?” mocked Klinger.

“We could win the war by catering to North Korea,” Hawkeye continued. “Just send them our food! They'd surrender by morning.”

Nellie didn't miss BJ's eye roll. She did her best not to smirk at the ranting surgeon. She watched as Klinger just pretended to be listening, instead inspecting his own food.

“Don't forget there's some of Peg's rum cookies waiting in the Swamp if you eat your vegetables,” said BJ as Hawkeye quieted down and picked at his food.

“We should just eat her cookies for dinner,” Hawkeye argued.

“Ah ah ah!” He shook his head. “Peg specifically told me in her letter that I have to share them during poker tonight.”

“When is the game?” asked Nellie.

Klinger looked at his watch. “Once we're all here and ready.”

Hawkeye stopped his food inspection long enough to look at Nellie. He shrugged. “You should come back to the Swamp after dinner. I'm sure Peg wouldn't mind it if we break open the cookies early.” Then he glanced at her coffee cup. “Besides, we have stronger stuff than that abomination in our tent.”

“Oh?”

“They have a distillery,” Klinger explained.

Hawkeye straightened up. “Not just any distillery. The Still. The greatest creation since Peg's rum cookies.”

With a laugh, BJ nodded. “I think the Still passes the rum cookies easily.”

“I don't know. Real food is hard to top.”

Nellie listened as the two surgeons continued to chat through dinner. They had a remarkable ability to play of each other's comments with incredible wit. It amazed her. Even she and Molly had never had that quick of a repartee. In the end, Hawkeye and BJ told both Nellie and Klinger to head with them to the Swamp.

“Klinger go get the table,” Hawkeye instructed.

As the company clerk rushed off to do as instructed, Hawkeye and BJ walked with Nellie to the door of the Swamp. The hum of classical music sounded through the mesh sides. Hawkeye rolled his eyes as they walked in. “Charles! It's poker night!”

The man turned in his chair as they walked in. He looked at his watch. “Not for another twenty one minutes. That's when the big hand is on the twelve, and the little hand is on the six!”

“If I give you a rum cookie from Peg, will you go somewhere else?” asked BJ.

Charles raised an eyebrow. He looked from BJ to Nellie, and sighed dramatically. “I will accept your offer only, and I mean only, because I do not wish to expose your childish behavior in front of our new surgeon, which would doubtless boil over if I refused.”

“How thoughtful,” Hawkeye mocked.

Charles took the offered rum cookie. He didn't dignify Hawkeye's quip with a response, instead leaving after nodding to Nellie. Right after he left, Klinger reentered with the large poker table. Hawkeye helped him set it up before the clerk left them.

“Here, try one.” BJ stepped over to where Nellie stood out of the way.

She took one from his tin. “Peg's your wife? Where’s home?”

BJ nodded. “Peg and our little daughter Erin are in San Francisco. She's two now. Sometimes when I close my eyes I can hear her cries. She's speaking now.” After a brief moment, he gestured to the Still. “Want some?”

“Please!”

As he filled a martini glasses, he turned the question on her. “Where's home for you?”

“Baltimore. My brother and I share an apartment near Patterson Park, not too far from the hospital.” She took the glass he offered. She downed a quick sip. Her eyes widened. “Wow.” A cough escaped her. “That's quite strong.”

Hawkeye and BJ both laughed.

“Jack works in the State Department. That's my brother.” Smiling, she looked down at her drink. Her thoughts were a million miles away. She took a sip and turned back to them. “What about you, Hawkeye?”

“Crabapple Cove, Maine.” He smiled. Sitting down on his cot, he shook his head. “It's the most beautiful little town you can imagine. In the spring, there are… a million flowers in the fields. And lobster is in every house at least twice a week. My dad runs a family medical practice there.”

“Sounds nice. I've always lived in cities. In fact I grew up in New York City.” Nellie sat down in one of the chairs at the poker table. “An urban jungle, I suppose. Back when Jack and I were kids, our parents sometimes took us upstate. The Adirondack Park was our favorite summer vacation.”

Suddenly the sound of a Jeep pulling up distracted her. Hawkeye and BJ looked over and the former waved at someone through the mesh. Nellie couldn't see who it was. Not until he walked through the door.

“Hey Sidney! Meet our new surgeon,” Hawkeye started.

Nellie choked on her drink, causing Hawkeye, BJ, and Sidney to stare at her. She simultaneously coughed and laughed. Words failed her.

“Nellie O'Hara,” Sidney said. He flashed a big smile her way and made his way over. He dropped his overnight bag on the extra cot. “My, my. What are the odds?”

She finally managed to speak. “Sidney!” After placing her martini glass on the poker table, she stood up and grabbed him in a quick hug. “You look great for being stuck over here for two years!”

“Apparently civilian life didn't satisfy you,” replied Sidney with a laugh. “What are you doing over here? Does the army know?”

With a laugh, she nodded. “It's a classified project.”

“So you two know each other,” BJ interrupted.

Hawkeye scoffed. “Clearly.”

Sidney nodded, sitting down on the poker seat next to Nellie and across from Hawkeye's cot. He didn't explain though. Instead he turned to Nellie.

“We were coworkers at Johns Hopkins during my first few years of residency,” she explained. “He also taught a seminar I took while doing med school.”

“Small world,” said BJ.

Nellie and Sidney both nodded. Not long after, the rest of the players showed up. Father Mulcahy and Klinger both sat out the beginning as they all took their seats. Colonel Potter ended up sitting to Nellie's right while Sidney stayed on her left. Hawkeye, BJ, and Margaret took the other chairs.

Hawkeye shuffled the cards. “Five card stud. Ante up.”


	6. F*I*V*E

Nellie made sure to keep her face neutral as she leaned back in her seat. After ten rounds of Five Card Stud in which she'd lost fifty-three dollars and change, they'd switched over to standard Five Card Draw. She told herself one more hand and then she'd sit out for a bit. No sense in losing all her money on day one.

She looked down at her starting hand. Six of Diamonds, Six of Clubs, Queen of Hearts, Ace of Spades, and Four of Hearts. So far all she had to her name was a pair of sixes. Her options were limited. She let her gaze roam around the table. Hawkeye caught her eye and smirked. So far he had won the most. Damn if she was going to let him beat her.

BJ straightened up where he sat to Sidney's left. It had been his deal. "Hawk?"

"I'll take two."

Quick as a flash, he passed the cards over, taking Hawkeye's discard. Margaret took three, and the Colonel asked for one. Finally it came to Nellie.

She forced herself not to hesitate. "Three." Handing over the Queen, Ace, and Four, she sat back against her chair and smirked at Hawkeye in turn. She glanced at the new three. Jack of Diamonds, Jack of Clubs, Six of Spades. Finally! Some luck.

"Sidney?" asked BJ.

"Two."

"Right." With a nod, BJ finished taking Sidney's discard. He took out three of his own hand. "Dealer takes three." After he looked at his new hand, he turned to his left. "Right. Hawk you're up."

With a nod, Hawkeye took a few bills from his ever-increasing pile of cash. He looked around and placed the on the pile in the table center. "Three dollars."

Margaret matched his three, and added two more. She turned to her left. "Colonel?"

"Just dandy! I fold." He slammed his cards onto the table with a huff.

All eyes were on Nellie. She shrugged, a small smile at the Colonel's dramatics creeping onto her face. She put five in, and then two more. With an innocent smile, she turned to Sidney. "You're up."

Sidney sat quietly. He looked at his cards. Finally he sighed. "I fold."

BJ snorted. "Same."

Hawkeye saw the raises, adding another four to the pot. He raised four dollars. Margaret begrudgingly matched his raise, but refused to raise any further. "Call," she said.

"I call as well." Nellie added four to the pot. "Hawkeye?"

"Call." He flipped over his hand. Seven of Hearts, Seven of Diamonds, Ace of Clubs, Ace of Hearts, and a Three of Diamonds. "Two pair, Aces and Sevens."

Margaret turned hers over with a grin. "Three of a kind, Eights."

But Nellie just shook her head. She flipped over her own cards and laid them out carefully. "Full house, Sixes and Jacks." She couldn't keep herself from smiling as she took the money from the pot. "Too bad I'm still short about eight dollars." After collecting the money in as organized a manner as she could, she stretched. "I hate to win and run, but I need to stretch my legs. I'll join back in later."

Hawkeye went to protest. "Wait a minute! You can't just take the money and walk!"

"You can try to win it back later. I promise," she argued.

"Fine." He turned to Klinger and the Father. "Which of you wants to jump in?"

Sidney stood. "I think I'll take a walk as well. My luck isn't what it used to be apparently." He made brief eye contact with Nellie. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all." Nellie stuffed her money into her pockets. Carefully stepping over BJ's cot, she went around the furnace towards the door. Sidney stood waiting for her. As they walked a few feet away from the Swamp, she turned to him. "Don't pull out your couch tonight."

Sidney chuckled. "Alright, fine. But tell me you're not in Korea on a death wish."

"I haven't dealt with anything like that for years," she reminded him. They made their way towards the Mess Tent. "I'm simply here because there's no possibility of advancement in the States for a woman surgeon. You know that."

He hummed in agreement as he opened the door. "This drive for advancement, for recognition. Why do you think that affects you so much? Why do you need the admiration and approval of others?"

Nellie didn't respond. The coffee machine became incredibly interesting. As she grabbed a cup of the liquid energy, Sidney followed and didn't say anything else. Then they took their seats in the empty tent.

"I said not to bring out your couch," Nellie muttered from behind her mug.

Sidney laughed. "Can you blame me? You were my patient for some time."

"And your colleague!"

"Of course. And a good one. I might even say great." He paused for a moment, letting the silence sit. Then he changed the subject. "How's your brother?"

She smiled instantly. "Oh you know Jack. Probably enjoying having the apartment to himself. I told him no parties," she joked. They both knew Jack wasn't a partier. With a sigh, she shook her head. "He's probably curled up on the couch reading a book."

"So what's the Army got you doing here?"

Nellie explained the Athena Project. As usual, Sidney remained perfectly neutral, his expression betraying nothing. He just listened. Nellie loved that about him. When she had first met him in Pre-Med, he was one of the few adjunct professors who she liked. Getting assigned to Johns Hopkins Hospital where he worked had been a privilege.

When she finished, he nodded. He took a sip of coffee. "I'm surprised Molly Monahan wasn't invited."

"She was," said Nellie. "They approached her about it the same week as me. She sent me a telegram."

"She said no?"

Nellie nodded. "Molly's always hated the military. She blames them for her brother Paul's death." At Sidney's questioning look, she continued. "Paul was killed at the end of World War Two. He was twenty-one and had just been drafted. They were twins."

"So she wants nothing to do with the military," Sidney surmised. "How'd she take the news that you were enlisting?"

Her gaze fell to her coffee. At first she didn't answer, but then she sat back and shrugged. "We managed to call each other before I was sent to Honolulu. I made sure we parted on friendly terms. I wasn't going to let this ruin our friendship." She took a sip. Setting the cup down, she added, "We went through too much together."

"Oh?"

Nellie went to explain. But she stopped herself, smiling. "No couch tonight, doc."

Suddenly the PA system turned on. "I know it's midnight, folks, but hurry to the OR, the wounded can't wait 'till morning!"

A shiver shot down Nellie's spine. Sidney watched her as they both stood, and he nodded to her. With a curt nod and smile in return, she rushed off to do as the other surgeons would direct her. An ambulance pulled into the compound moments after she left the Mess Tent.

The poker game had been abandoned. Shouts raged on every side of her. It was more than a little disorienting in the dark. BJ caught sight of Nellie and hurried over to her. "Go on inside and get scrubbed. Charles and Hawkeye will join you."

She didn't say anything in response. She just nodded. Bloodied bodies lay strewn across the compound. Groans bombarded her ears. As she stepped around a man with a bad chest wound, she wanted nothing more than to ease their pain. That's why she'd become a doctor, after all.

Klinger and another medic blocked her way while moving a litter. She stood in silence. Suddenly she felt a hand around her ankle. When Nellie looked down at the man who had grabbed her, she nearly threw up. His entire face was red with oozing blood, and he would probably lose his leg based on the visibly fractured bone. It took significant effort for Nellie to move from him as the litters passed. Not for his strength, but for her lack of it.

At last she made it to the scrub room. Navigating the maze of broken bodies hadn't been easy. She was the first to the women's side of the changing room. Pristine white scrubs sat on a shelf. She pulled off her olive drab fatigues and into these. As she maneuvered past the now full changing room, she tied her hair up and put it under her hat.

Nellie shuddered. Counting to ten, she reminded herself that this was her job. She'd been doing operations, some extremely gruesome, for nearly five years. After all, Baltimore hadn't exactly been heaven. She turned on the water and started scrubbing.

With each rub of her hands across her arms, she inwardly repeated the phrases they'd had engraved. Ad Infinitum, Ad Meliora. To infinity, towards better things. She didn't even notice that Hawkeye had joined her at the sink basin.

"Good luck, Doctor." Hawkeye watched her as she stepped away from the sink to dry her hands. "If you need help, don't hesitate to ask."

Nellie thought about biting back. She wouldn't need help anymore than the other men. But she saw that there was no joke or scorn in his comment. So she nodded.

"Listen, if you're as good as Sidney was just telling me, you'll be fine." Hawkeye stood away from the sink as well. He grabbed a cloth with two fingers to dry his hands. "But you need to remember that this is going to be different from anything Stateside. If you need a break between patients, we'll try to let you have one."

"Blood doesn't phase me, doctor," she said.

"It's not the blood I'm talking about," he argued back as he put on his mask. "It's the pointless waste."

Nellie fiddled with her own mask. She could see how angry the subject made him. At the moment, Hawkeye gained a good deal of respect in her eyes. She watched him duck through the curtains and the operating room door. With a last deep breath, she followed.

Nurses darted to and fro. Margaret slipped gloves onto Hawkeye's hands as he took his spot at the center table. Klinger rushed passed her to bring him an X-Ray.

"Gloves," said a familiar voice.

Nellie looked over to see Kellye with the tray of gloves. The nurse helped her put them on. The cold snap of the latex jolted Nellie out of her stupor. That was familiar, at least. The smell of rubbing alcohol filled her nose as another nurse passed.

Two orderlies brought in a litter. It was a young soldier, dusty blonde hair made darker from ash and blood. She could tell he was terrified. Her stomach twisted as she realized he looked like Molly's twin. But there wasn't time for mourning. She checked the tag to read his status and wounds and ordered the anesthetist to put him under.

"Ready, doctor?" asked Margaret. She stepped up to Nellie's table.

Nellie stared down at the prepped soldier. He had shell fragments in his right shoulder and a few in his belly. She took a deep breath. _Ad Infinitum, Ad Meliora._ Nellie looked up and nodded.

"Scalpel."


	7. S*I*X

Nellie wandered into the women's changing room. Her feet felt numb. Her eyes felt tired. Her body ached. More than that, her heart ached. Only Margaret stood in the room with her now. Nellie could hear the doctors chatting quietly beyond the curtains.

“Nice work,” said Margaret. The head nurse changed into her fatigues. She smiled at Nellie. “Really. It was impressive.”

Nellie forced a smile. “Thank you.”

“Go get some sleep.”

Nellie watched Margaret leave. Slowly, she started going through the motions. Pull off the bloody scrubs, pull on the clean fatigues. They'd been in surgery for thirteen hours. Now it was one in the afternoon. Even the orange juice that Klinger had made for them hadn't quenched her exhaustion.

She left the hospital alone. The sunlight blinded her. As she went towards her tent, she saw the other surgeons dragging their way into the Swamp. Hawkeye hadn't even gotten rid of his white pants. Her feet dragged as she approached her own tent. So much for poker.

The door shut noisily behind her. Nellie stood there unmoving. She stared at the floor in her tent. After half a minute, she sat on her bed and went to take her boots off. The soles were bloodied. She'd said blood didn't phase her. And yet the sight of the blood of the soldiers caked into the grooves of her boot made her sick.

The bottle of scotch on her desk looked attractive. Nellie poured herself a shot glass full and downed half in one gulp. The bed felt softer than she remembered it being. For half an hour, Nellie just sat staring at the diploma across from her bed. She thanked God that Molly had declined the job offer. She herself had barely made it through without crying; Nellie couldn't imagine Molly doing that given her brother's untimely death. Nellie hadn't even known Paul and the thought of him and the wounded made her sick.

She took another sip. Fatigue threatened to overtake her. Finally she placed the empty glass into her side table. She used a small key to unlock the wooden box and took out her rosary. She started the prayers as she lay down to sleep.

When she woke up, it was to a knock at her door. She didn't bother to put her fatigue button down on or her boots, instead she just pushed open the door. Her hair looked messy, half in a ponytail she hadn't undone after surgery. To her surprise, it was BJ.

“It's the end of dinner,” he told her. “Thought you might want to get up before all the food is gone.”

She nodded. Shifting in the doorway, she glanced up at the sky. Dark clouds were starting to accumulate over the quickly fading sky. “Thanks. I should probably eat.” Then she looked back at him.

“What?”

“To be honest I thought you and Hawkeye were joined at the hip.” She cracked a smile and went back inside to put on her boots.

BJ laughed and stood in the doorway. He shook his head. “He's in Post Op.”

“Ah.”

“You did better than I did.”

“Pardon?”

He stood aside as she exited her tent. With a gesture to the Hospital, he tried to explain. “Your first time seeing wounded. I couldn't hold down my lunch.”

“They're younger than I expected,” she admitted.

Nellie walked with BJ over to the Mess Tent. He didn't respond to her statement. Inside the tent, a few nurses and orderlies still sat eating. She spotted Klinger getting himself food. BJ went to grab a table while she got in line.

“Hey Major! Good work this morning,” he said with a grin. “I think even Major Houlihan was impressed.”

She smiled back. “Thanks, Corporal.”

“You can call me Klinger. Every time I hear that title it makes me hate the army more.”

After they both got trays of food and cups of coffee, they joined BJ. He had a mug as well. By now the fading light had almost entirely disappeared. Between the clouds and the sinking sun, night arrived early. Nellie checked her watch. 7:25.

“Looks like it's gonna rain,” BJ muttered.

But Klinger just grinned. “Good! Let it rain! Reminds me of Toledo.”

“You're crazy.”

“Don't tell me, tell the army!”

BJ chuckled. He took a sip of his coffee and shook his head. “Klinger if you ever get out on a Section Eight, I'll never complain about this war again.”

“Don't do that on my account,” Klinger scoffed.

Klinger and Nellie both finished eating at the same time. The former left them quickly, claiming he still had paperwork to fill out from the morning. BJ suggested Nellie join them at the Officers’ Club. “Though be careful, Hawk may try to get some of that poker money from yesterday.”

Nellie chuckled. She nodded. Standing from her table in the Mess Tent, she disposed of her scraps in the trash can outside. Night had fallen. Wind gusted through the compound, surprising her as she went outside. She folded her arms across her chest. The wind blew her hair every which way into her face.

As they walked towards the Officers’ Club, Hawkeye joined them from Post Op. He kicked a rock and it bounced right in front of Nellie. Without hesitating, she kicked it forward too.

“Well you two look about as enthusiastic as I feel,” Hawkeye said.

BJ laughed. He shook his head. “I think we could all use a drink.”

“Preferably something that's aged more than ten minutes,” added Hawkeye.

Not many patrons frequented the Officers’ Club that night. Igor stood behind the bar, his Hawaiian shirt the most lively thing there. A handful of corpsmen sat in the corner closest to the door playing poker. At a table near the slot machines, Charles sipped his cognac and sat reading. Instead of Father Mulcahy's piano skills, they were treated to music from the jukebox.

Nellie looked around the room. The Officers’ Club was decently sized for their outfit numbers. Five bar stools sat at the counter, unoccupied. Only Igor cleaning the glasses provided any proof towards the name “club.”

“We better not disturb the prince.” Hawkeye gestured to Charles. Instead he pulled out a chair from a center table. “He gets testy this time of night.”

“So do you, Pierce,” Charles bit back without even raising his head.

Nellie sat with her back to the slot machine wall. A basket of pretzels sat in the middle of the table. She grabbed one. “Pretzels. What a delicacy.”

“I see we speak the same language,” said Hawkeye. “I also happen to be fluent in sarcasm.”

“It's one of several local dialects,” added BJ.

Before Nellie could respond, Igor came over. “What do you want, sirs?” Then he glanced at Nellie. “And ma'am.”

“I'll have a scotch,” Nellie said.

Hawkeye and BJ both seconded her order. A shout of glee accompanied by several groans sounded from the poker game in the corner. Hawkeye looked over. “Don't spend it all in one place, Goldman!”

The corpsman in question, a short man with dark hair and Mediterranean features, smirked. He didn't respond. Instead he just reached forward and collected the large pot of winnings.

“You did good today,” Hawkeye commented. He nodded at Igor when the man plopped their scotches down on the table. “But now the next big challenge faces us.”

Nellie took a drink. “Oh?”

“Rapidly approaching is April the first.” Hawkeye rubbed his hands together. “And with April the first comes the threat of pranks.”

A smile graced BJ's face. He also took a drink. “Tis the season for playing jokes.”

“Ah, yes,” she said. “I've been warned to watch out for you two. Apparently you have quite the reputation.”

“Your flattery will not keep you safe,” Hawkeye teased.

Nellie grinned. She sat back against her chair. With a sip of her scotch, she looked Hawkeye straight in the eye. “I didn't expect it to.”

Both surgeons grinned in response. Nellie wasn't about to back down from a practical joke war. Then again, she didn't want to make herself an easy target. She decided then and there to strike first. And she had an idea already.

They chatted about nothing in particular for awhile. Nellie enjoyed listening to BJ and Hawkeye banter. She found she didn't need to participate. They just kept going. It amazed her.

Several hours later a great pounding was heard. Everyone in the club looked up. Someone muttered something about “damn rain” and several expletives.

“At least I'm wearing boots and not the damn dress heels,” muttered Nellie. She took a drink and finished up her glass of scotch. “I tell you, there is no man in this camp who understands the hell that is those shoes.”

Both BJ and Hawkeye snickered to themselves. When Nellie looked at them in confusion, BJ went on to explain. “There is one man.”

“Oh?”

Hawkeye finished his own glass. With a smirk, he elaborated. “Klinger. He used to dress up in women's clothes.”

“He was trying to get a discharge.”

“A Section Eight, insanity discharge.”

Nellie laughed out loud. She looked at them in amazement. “You're serious!”

“I have several photos of his outfits,” Hawkeye revealed.

“Me too.” BJ glanced at his watch. It was nearly eleven. He looked over at Charles who seemed to be getting ready to leave. “Why don't we go back to the Swamp. We can show you a couple pictures.”

“Your tent is closer than mine. Shorter time to get wet.” Suddenly her face fell as they stood from the table. “Though I suppose the rain is one way to get their blood off my boots.”

Neither BJ nor Hawkeye said anything in response. They shared a glance as she stared down at her boots. For her, time seemed to stand still.

“Come on, the pictures of Klinger await you,” Hawkeye said after a moment.

She straightened up. Charles joined them. Forcing a smile, she followed them out. At five foot seven, she had never thought herself short, but standing by all three Swamp dwellers convinced her otherwise. None of them could've been shorter than six feet tall. She did her best to keep up with their longer strides in the rain that fell around them.

Given all the negative talk about Charles that Nellie had heard in the past couple days, it surprised her that he didn't protest being kept awake by her visit. He held the door for her as she entered the Swamp. With a curt nod, she thanked him.

“So, where are these incriminating photos?” Nellie asked curiously.

Hawkeye offered her the end of his bunk as he went through his footlocker. She sat down and watched both BJ and Hawkeye go through their stuff. But Charles just scoffed.

“Are you talking about Klinger's downright terrible dress code?” He shook his head from where he sat at his desk. “Dare I say that we've thankfully seen the last of that cretin's crossdressing?” Charles took out a pad of paper and a pen. He started composing a letter.

Hawkeye stood from his foot locker with three photos in hand. With a childlike grin, he stepped over to Nellie. “This one was his Scarlett O'Hara showcase. And this one-”

“Oh my gosh, is that him as the Statue of Liberty?” She laughed and took the photos from him. “That's fantastic. Lifelike!” The third photo made had her grinning as well. He wore a pink ruffled dress and floral hair piece complete with white heels and a white purse decorated with a red handkerchief. “Now in this one he's got real style. The rifle truly completes the look.”

“That's my personal favorite,” Hawkeye agreed. He sat down in the chair next to his cot. “I had him pose so someday I can show my dad.”

BJ chuckled. He came back over to them from his own foot locker. The photo he handed to Nellie made her burst out laughing. “Dorothy?”

“The one and only!”

Hawkeye looked at it. “I wish I had that one. It would complete my Klinger Film collection.”

“I think I have a whole new respect for Klinger,” said Nellie. “Anyone brave enough to crossdress and still be a damn good corpsman deserves a medal.”

“He'd settle for a dishonorable discharge,” BJ countered.

“He deserves one,” muttered Charles.

As the denizens of the Swamp traded jibes and insults, Nellie sat quietly. Klinger had done a bang up job in OR that day. But with her thoughts drifting to OR, the faces of the men she had treated invaded her mind. She stared at her boots. She could still see caked blood on the rubber border at the bottom. There was even some blood on the tips. Part of her wished Sidney had stayed.

The rain had stopped. The pitter patter on the tent roof faded into nothingness. BJ and Charles were arguing about something. Nellie took a deep breath. She stood. “Well, thanks for showing me Klinger's true calling as a fashion icon. I believe I'm helping out in Post Op in the morning?”

“You're with me and Margaret.” Hawkeye watched her stoic face change into a forced smile. He stood with her. “These two are going to go on and on forever. I think I'll take a walk.”

Nellie left the Swamp, Hawkeye hot on her tail. As much as he had the urge to flirt with her, he bit his tongue. He remember vividly how tough BJ's transition to meatball surgery had been. And though his own introduction felt like decades ago, he knew how hard it was.

“I'll walk you back,” he commented.

Nellie just rolled her eyes. But she shrugged and didn't object. With her hands in her button down pockets, she walked next to him. It didn't take long for them to reach her tent. When she opened the door, he saw the bottle of scotch on her desk.

“Scotch tastes better shared,” he commented with a grin.

Nellie turned to him. She didn't say anything. But finally she sighed. “One drink.”

When they both went inside, she pulled out one of her suitcases from under her bed. A few items she still hadn't unpacked sat bundled together inside. To get to her extra two shot glasses, she took out a framed photo of herself, another woman with dark hair, and a short haired man who resembled herself but stood a full half foot taller. Nellie placed it on her desk beside her diploma.

“Here.” She filled a plain shot glass with scotch.

Hawkeye took it gratefully. “Who are they?” He pointed to the picture.

With a smile, Nellie picked up the frame. She ran her hand over the glass. “On the left is Molly Monahan, my roommate from med school. On the right is my brother Jack. The two of us went to visit her last year after she moved to San Francisco to help her move in.”

She put down the picture frame and filled her own inscribed glass. The glass was empty after her first drink. But she refilled it immediately.

“Good stuff!” Hawkeye eyed the bottle. “Where'd you get it?”

“Tokyo. I got three bottles as a gift from a general. I performed an emergency tracheotomy when he started choking at a dinner.”

“You already drank two bottles?” He looked at her in amazement.

But she just laughed. Taking a seat on her bed, she shook her head. “I sent one home to Jack. Scotch was our drink. I figured he'd enjoy it.”

“You two sound close.” Hawkeye took a seat in her desk chair. With Nellie's permission he refilled his own glass.

Nellie smiled again. “Yeah. Well, we're all each other's got. Besides, everyone loves Jack.” She smirked. Her thoughts drifted. “Jackson Christopher O'Hara. Prom King of our high school, president of the Alpha of Virginia chapter of Phi Beta Kappa, former Captain in the US Army…”

“Your parents must be happy,” Hawkeye joked.

Nellie looked down at her shot glass. It was empty. She held it out and Hawkeye refilled it. “Both our parents were killed in a car accident. I was twenty-one at the time. Jack had just gotten back from his assignment in Honolulu.”

“Sorry.” Hawkeye didn't know what else to say. He watched her looking at her boots again. With brief hesitation, he brought up the reason he'd wanted to stop in. “You did good in the OR. You know the first time BJ saw wounded he lost his lunch.”

“So he told me.”

“I drink a lot here. But I can tell you from personal experience that drowning yourself in this stuff doesn't help. When you get sober, the wounded are still there. The goddamn war is still there.” He clenched his fist.   
Nellie didn't immediately respond. She looked from Hawkeye to her boots, and back to him. “I said blood didn't bother me…”

“We all think that until it's pouring out of those kids.”

She took a deep breath. With a nod, she finished her glass. Then she walked to her desk. She placed the empty glass in front of her picture frame. “Does it ever come off the boots?”

“Yes.”

Her expression changed, hardening. She murmured, “Ad Infinitum, Ad Meliora.” Then turning to Hawkeye, she nodded. “I should sleep.”

“Good idea. We've got rounds tomorrow.” He stood and went to the door. “Now let's hope my roommates have decided to cease and desist.”

Nellie laughed. She stood in the doorway as he left. “You're not half bad, you know. And to think everyone said to be careful about you.”

“Oh?”

“Seems you have a reputation with the women.”

Hawkeye grinned. “Trust me, the supply room is always open if you want to go do some heavy breathing together.”

“You wish.”

“With all my heart.” He wiggled his fingers in a wave as he walked away. “I've never invited a surgeon into my little corner. You should be flattered.”

“I take back my compliment.”

Hawkeye just winked. As he went back to the Swamp, Nellie rolled her eyes into the night. Her watch read half past one. Definitely time for bed. The pathetic mattress didn't seem so bad after such a long day.


	8. S*E*V*E*N

A constant ache settled in the back of Nellie's head when she woke up the next morning. The alarm clock on her side table woke her at seven. She grabbed her towel and toiletries. Nothing like a shower to start the day. Nellie slipped on her olive drab undershirt and underwear before covering herself with her lilac bathrobe.

As she walked across the compound the brown and white dog she heard was named Irving trotted down the road. Nellie cracked a smile. Thankfully the showers were unoccupied. She relished the touch of the warm water. After a good ten minutes and a much needed hair wash, she dried off and made her way back across camp.

She tried to wring her hair out as much as she could. Once she had clean fatigues on, she went to breakfast. Powdered eggs, toast, and coffee were plopped onto her tray. She ate quickly. Then she went to find Klinger.

Nellie slipped into the clerical office. Klinger sat at his desk on the phone, sweet talking someone into getting them a hundred extra specimen bottles. Glancing up at her, he nodded.

“You get me those specimen bottles, and I'll see that you get fifty rolls of the best toilet paper.” He grinned. “Yeah. Yeah. Right. Talk to you later.” The phone call ended. Klinger turned to Nellie. “What can I do for you Major?”

Nellie smirked. Folding her arms, she walked over to his desk and leaned against the side. “I need a favor. And it has to stay just between us.”

“Speak and it shall be yours.”

“Yesterday I was reminded that April first is rapidly approaching.” She saw his face light up. With a glance around them, she lowered her voice. “I have an idea. But I need some soap.”

“Soap?” Klinger looked at her in concern. “If the joke is making Hawkeye bathe, you'd need more than just soap.”

Nellie laughed. She shook her head. “No. All I need from you is three bars of the soap we all use around here. The rest is up to me.”

“Three bars of soap? Consider them yours. I thought you were going to have a real challenge for me!”

“Thanks, Klinger. You can leave them in my tent. But don't tell anyone!”

With a quick smile, Nellie left the office and made her way into Post Op. Ten of the beds were occupied. Most of the men lay quietly, staring up at the ceiling. A few of the less serious cases sat eating breakfast. One young man lay reading a Superman comic.

Kellye sat at the nurse's desk. Yawning, she glanced up at Nellie. “Good morning, doctor!”

“Morning,” said Nellie. She moved some damp strands of hair out of her face. Leaning against the wall, she looked around. “It’s peaceful in here.”

“Only until Hawkeye shows up.”

Nellie laughed. She shook her head. Before she could respond, however, the man in question entered Post Op from the other door.

“Good morning, gents and germs,” he sing-songed. “Lie at attention. Be ready for inspection!” When Hawkeye caught sight of Nellie, he made his way over. He became more serious. “Anything of note, Kellye?”

“No, doctor. Everyone's been normal. Private Greene is still unconscious, but his pulse and pressure are regular.” Kellye moved over to the first bed near the desk.

Private Charlie Greene. Nellie looked at him. His freckled face was framed by sandy blonde hair. A set of bandages had been wrapped around his chest. He'd been Hawkeye's first patient.

“Right. Good.” He picked up Greene's chart and looked at it. Then he showed it to Nellie. “The charts are pretty simple. It's the kind of thing you'd see in a trauma ward back home. Keep them updated during your shifts.” Then he turned to Kellye. “Kellye you can go. Get some sleep. Margaret's busy doing something for the Colonel. We'll bring her up to speed.”

“Right. Good luck, Major.”

As Kellye left Post Op, Hawkeye told Nellie to check the less serious patients while he took some vitals from Greene. The first patient she went to was Corporal Jonathan Stanislas. He had a broken arm. A white sling supported his left arm and he sat up eating eggs and toast. Nellie stopped at the foot of his bed.

“Here, nurse.” He handed her his tray. “It was great! Thanks!”

Nellie smiled. She took the tray and set it on a foot locker beside him. “I'm Doctor O'Hara. Not a nurse, but close.” She moved to his side. “How's the arm feeling?”

“Doctor?” He laughed for a moment. “Since when do they let girls be doctors in the army?”

“Since about two weeks ago, Corporal.”

He frowned. After a moment when she didn't leave, he finally responded. “Not much pain.”

Nellie nodded. “Good. Let someone know if it worsens.” When he agreed, she moved on to the man next to him. He was older, maybe in his thirties. Captain's bars sat pinned to his blue recovery shirt.

“Captain Morrison.” She picked up his chart. He'd taken sharpnel to his left leg and side. The wounds had been moderately serious, but it hadn't been anything she couldn't handle.

He glared at her. “A woman surgeon? I don't like it. I don't like it at all. Get that other doctor over here.” He pointed to where Hawkeye had his back to them. “I'm not about to let a woman check my wounds.”

Nellie straightened up. His words cut deep, but it wasn't anything she hadn't come to expect. Still, they hurt. “I assure you, Captain, I'm as qualified as the next man.” She went to look under his bandaged side.

“I said don't touch me!”

“Alright. Have it your way.” She turned away. “Hawkeye.”

He made his way over, pushing a pen into his jacket pocket. With a quick glance between the patient and Nellie, he turned in confusion. “What's up?”

“The Captain would like a man to check his wounds.”

Hawkeye's eyebrows shot up. He looked back at Captain Morrison. “So, how long have you been afraid of women?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well I don't see any other reason why Major O'Hara shouldn't check your wounds. You're alive because of her.” He gestured to Nellie. “She did your operation.”

Morrison sneered. “You let a woman operate on an officer?”

“Look, Captain. We don't have time for this. As doctors, we're both very busy.” Gesturing to Nellie, he continued. “She may be a woman, but that doesn't mean she hasn't put in the same grueling hours of training that I have. So keep your mouth shut and let her do her job.” Hawkeye turned to Nellie. “If he gives you any more trouble, let me know. I'll call Sidney down to check out his fear of women.”

She forced herself not to smirk as he walked away. To her relief, Morrison kept his mouth shut as she checked his dressings. She left him with a parting smile before moving three beds down to another one of her patients. Private Sam Brixton.

“I think the fact that you're a woman and a doctor is great!” He forced himself to sit up, laying his comic aside. “My little sister wants to be one.”

Nellie grinned and sat down next to his bed. Brixton had a minor head wound and had taken two bullets to the stomach. “What's her name?”

“Julia. She's sixteen.”

“I hope she pursues it. You can tell her you met one of us here in Korea!”

Sam Brixton nodded. He grinned. “My sister doesn't know any woman doctors. She'll be excited to hear about you.”

“I tell you what. When you go home, tell her to write me if she needs advice on becoming a doctor. I'd be glad to talk to her.”

“Thanks, doc! I will!”

Nellie pulled the stool over closer to the bed. She moved his button down out of the way. The bandages were nice and clean, with only the expected amount of bloody discharge. “You look excellent, Private. Some of my best work is on your stomach.”

He grinned. “Glad I got someone skilled like you working on me.”

“You're lucky it wasn't me!” Hawkeye smiled from where he now stood behind Nellie. With a quick glance at his chart, he continued. “I can't even read. The Major here has to translate these funny symbols for me.”

“Yes, it's a wonder he survived before I showed up,” said Nellie with a wink.

“She even had to teach me my left from right.”

Sam laughed. He shook his head. “You're all great as far as I'm concerned.”

Smiling, Nellie told him to rest up. She left his bedside and followed Hawkeye back to the nurse's desk. The angry gaze of Captain Morrison followed her.

“They all check out okay,” Hawkeye commented. He glanced over at Morrison and saw him glaring at Nellie's back. “Morrison's manners need some work though.” When he caught the man's gaze, he wiggled his fingers in a wave causing him to look away.

Nellie shrugged. She frowned and looked everywhere but at Hawkeye. “Nothing I'm not used to. I expected it.”

Though she sounded tough, every belittling comment she experienced made her feel worse about herself. It made her question her decision to go to Korea. At least in Baltimore the staff and patients were used to Nellie's presence. It was well known that a woman surgeon worked at Johns Hopkins. Here she had to go through the breaking in period all over again.

Margaret entered Post Op through the nearby door to Klinger's office. She apologized for being late. “The Colonel and I were discussing a new nurse rotation.”

“We're all finished up here.” Hawkeye gestured to Private Greene. “Keep an eye on him. Take his pulse and pressure every hour, and get me if it drops.”

“Right.”

Nellie followed Hawkeye out of Post Op. She folded her arms. The sun had risen in the sky and people trailed about the compound. The tail end of breakfast was still going on. A few nurses left the Mess Tent but Nellie didn't recognize any of them. As Hawkeye went back to the Swamp, she decided to go get her journal and find a place to sit.

She ended up settling down on the table at the top of the chopper pad. There it was quiet. And yet when she sat at the table, she could look down into the compound and watch the goings on. Writing in her journal, she spilled out her anger and frustration at the attitude of Captain Morrison in OR. She permitted herself to shed a few tears while she sat alone. Nellie never let herself cry in public, but at the top of the hill by herself she allowed the emotional release.

 


	9. E*I*G*H*T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hawkeye tries very hard to make this a Hawkeye/Nellie fic. But the author continues to shut him down.

From her vantage point on the chopper pad, Nellie started sketching the camp. Between journaling her thoughts, pictures of the buildings took shape. She spent several hours there, missing lunch. After the sketches of the camp became boring, she moved on to sketching characters from the latest Walt Disney Productions animated film.

She'd seen Cinderella at the very end of her residency. It brought back happy memories from when she and her parents went to see Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. Soon she found flying elephants, dwarves, and princesses sketched out over her journal. Even a deer or two graced the pages.

Around three in the afternoon, she decided to head back to her tent. Her stomach growled. Suddenly missing lunch didn't seem like such a good idea. As she walked through the nurses’ tents, she could hear a chorus of voices from the compound. Five nurses went against five corpsmen in basketball. Nearby BJ, Hawkeye, and the Colonel chatted while playing horseshoes.

Nellie ducked inside her tent. Her journal slipped into her side table drawer, and her pencil onto her desk. She did her hair in a quick braid, tired of it falling into her face. As she turned away from her mirror on her desk, she saw three bars of soap sitting on her bed.

She grinned. Quickly Nellie pulled out her small basket of nail polish. From amongst the colors she retrieved the clear coat. She set to work. Each bar of soap received a clear coat of nail polish to keep them from lathering when used. All she would need to do was distribute them to her targets without getting seen: Charles, Hawkeye, and BJ. She decided to leave Margaret out of it, hoping to incriminate her in the prank.

By the time she finished and set them to dry, the clock read 3:30. She grabbed the letter she'd written for Jack and slipped it into her pocket. The compound was still full of people trying to occupy their time. BJ was failing miserably at horseshoes, much to the amusement of Hawkeye. Nellie made her way over to them.

“Just try to release a little later,” Colonel Potter said to BJ. “You're almost there.”

“I'm about as close to making these as I am to seeing Peg.”

“Here here here. Let me show you.” Hawkeye took one of the horseshoes from him. He took a step forward and released. The shoe clunked to the ground a foot from the stake. He cursed.

BJ smirked. “Beautiful work.”

“Major! Care to try?” Potter held out two horseshoes to her. “Are you better than these two?”

BJ and Hawkeye looked her way. The former stood with his arms crossed. But Nellie just laughed. “Oh no. That's not a question I need answered.” She waved them off. “I appreciate the offer, but I've never even seen a horse in person. Let alone tried to throw a horseshoe.”

The Colonel cracked a smile. “Well that won't do. We've got a horse here!”

“Sophie,” Hawkeye said.

“She's my mare. A true beauty.” He went to toss another shoe. After it clanged right into the stake, he turned to her.

A Jeep came whizzing into the compound. Nellie stepped out of the way quickly. It came to halt in front of them. Father Mulcahy was driving.

“Tell me you got it,” said Colonel Potter.

“Good news! I got a film. We've got a popular one this week!” Mulcahy climbed out of the jeep. He pulled out the package.

“What is it?” Nellie asked.

“Casablanca.”

“Not a western, but a damn good film.” Colonel Potter nodded as he took it. He turned to the three surgeons. “You three gonna be at the movie tonight?”

“Sure, why not,” BJ said.

“Why not?” Hawkeye looked at him like he was crazy. “Ingrid Bergman's the star and you say sure?”

BJ chuckled. “Don't get me wrong! I'm excited!”

“I should hope so!”

He just rolled his eyes. “Nellie?”

She shrugged. “Probably.”

“Ah come on!” Hawkeye poked her in the shoulder. At her questioning look, he continued. “It's a movie! Watch it while you can.” Then he smirked. “You can sit with me! We can share popcorn.”

“You don't give up, do you.” Nellie tried to stop herself from smiling. She shook her head. “I'll go to the movie. But I'll have my own popcorn thank you.”

BJ laughed. Patting Hawkeye on the back, he just grinned. “Well you tried.”

“I have not yet begun to try!”

“Better watch out,” said BJ to Nellie. “He may even start grovelling.”

She couldn't stop herself from chuckling. With a simple shake of her head, she walked away. Nellie went directly to Klinger's office. She found him inside typing away at his typewriter.

Nellie pulled out her letter to Jack. She handed it over. “Here, Klinger. Can you send this out tomorrow?”

“Sure.” He took the letter and slid it into his outbox. Then he grinned and turned to her. “Did you hear! We got Casablanca!”

With a quiet laugh, she shook her head. “Yes.”

“Hey it's big news! We never get good pictures.”

Nellie nodded. “I'm sure it is. I'll see you at the movie later.”

With a quick smile, she left the office and headed out into the compound. She'd overheard a few corpsmen talking about the weather. Apparently the stretch of moderate temperatures was sure to disappear any day. Looking up towards the sun, she understood why. Even in late March it felt hotter than she'd have expected.

“No you can't!” BJ said loudly.

Nellie looked over. He and Hawkeye were messing with the horseshoes. The latter had thrown his somewhat close to the stake. But BJ seemed to be irritated with something else. Or incredulous.

“You're hopeless at darts,” said Hawkeye.

“Me?!”

“You couldn't hit a target if it was two feet from you!”

Nellie laughed. Both surgeons looked over to her and Hawkeye grinned in response. As he picked up his thrown horseshoes, he pointed to her.

“See! She agrees!”

“She's just laughing at you.”

Nellie put her hands on her hips. As she walked over, she shook her head. “Ah, no, gentlemen. I don't have enough information to take one side or the other.” But she cocked her head to the side. “There's an easy way to solve this.”

“Do you play?” asked BJ.

As he too collected his horseshoes, she gave a small shrug. She told them she'd been known to throw a few darts. The grin that settled in to Hawkeye's face made her own smile. Though she had absolutely zero intention of letting him know or developing feelings for the man, she absolutely loved the way his eyes smiled, too. It was infectious.

Hawkeye all but pushed her towards the Swamp. The horseshoes were given to a couple of corpsmen, Roy Goldman and Dennis Troy. They set up their own game. 

As Nellie went inside and sat at the bottom of the empty cot, Hawkeye dug around for the darts. BJ closed the Swamp door behind them.

“You're going to look awfully silly when you lose to me in front of Nellie,” BJ said.

With an incredulous scoff, Hawkeye looked over at him. His eyes narrowed. “Oh yeah?”

“Great comeback.”

Nellie leaned over to look at BJ's bunk area. “Got any more of those rum cookies?”

“Yeah. Hungry?”

“Starved. I missed lunch.”

Hawkeye laughed. As he produced the set of five darts, he spun around towards them. He handed them to BJ.

“Five shots each. The one closest wins.”

With a nod, Hawkeye turned to BJ and Nellie both. “Let's make this more interesting. Each shot outside the middle ring means the you have to take a drink of gin.”

“Seems only fair,” Nellie agreed. She sent a smirk towards Hawkeye. Then she held her out her hand. “I think we should all start with one too.”

Hawkeye's grin grew. With a flourish, he filled up a martini glass and handed it over to Nellie. She took it carefully. The gin nearly choked her at first, but after a moment it settled down. While Hawkeye filled one for himself, and then for BJ, she sat drinking.

“Who's first?” she asked.

“Me of course.” Hawkeye took back the darts.

As he looked around for where best to stand, Nellie scooted a bit on the cot. She gestured over to herself. “Stand here. It's about as far as you can get.”

Hawkeye smirked. He scooted over to beside the extra cot. “Any excuse to be by your side, after all.”

“Throw the darts, Swamprat.” Then she smirked back. “Hey you never know, maybe if you win I'll let you sit next to me at the movie.”

The surprised chuckle that Hawkeye released didn't stop Nellie from staring him right in the eyes. BJ just stood to the left, near to Hawkeye's bunk, and watched them both in amusement.

“Right.” Hawkeye bowed to Nellie. “Mademoiselle. Prepare to be amazed.” He quickly turned and threw one of the darts. It hit just to the right of the nine. He swore.

“Drink up,” BJ said.

Hawkeye didn't even hesitate. With a dramatic move, he gulped down half his martini glass of gin. He coughed and sputtered only briefly. “Good batch,” he said as he turned to BJ.

“We aged it an extra ten minutes. Throw again.”

This time the dart hit the center large ring. His next two resulted in two more large drinks from his glass, but the final one nearly hit the bullseye. Leaving BJ to retrieve the five darts, he grabbed his hat and sat down on the side of the cot that Nellie occupied.

She didn't move much, just enough to turn and face him. With a quick gesture to his absurd hat, she shook her head. “You haven't won yet, Cowboy.”

“Oh! Swamprat and cowboy. Thanks for the pet names,” he said smartly.

With a scoffing laugh, she shook her head. “BJ, do you mind if I go?”

“Ladies first,” he agreed.

“Thank you.”

Nellie got up from the cot, leaving Hawkeye to collapse over its side. The darts weighed heavier in her hand than she was expecting. Shifting four to her left hand and one to her right, she prepared to throw. Taking a deep breath, she released it and the dart simultaneously.

The thunk it sounded made her nervous. But to her pleasant surprise, it had gotten inside the innermost circle. She grinned. Darts had never been her best game; Jack had beat her nearly every time. He'd gotten plenty of practice in Honolulu, was what he'd tell her. She tried to channel her brother as she threw the next one.

“I've seen worse,” BJ assured her. “Mostly by the Cowboy over there.”

This one had hit in the outer circle. One drink. Her last three stayed towards the middle, and if they'd been keeping score, might even have beaten Hawkeye. But in terms of who was closest, he had come out ahead. She hated losing.

BJ took out the darts again. Nellie stood to the side, refusing to give Hawkeye the satisfaction of her company. As she sipped at her gin, she watched BJ move into position. His first two shots went side of the center ring, and his next two stayed near where Nellie's had ended up. But with his final shot, he got even closer to the bullseye than Hawkeye.

“I think that beats you,” BJ said with a smirk. He walked over to Nellie and offered to refill her drink.

“Please, thank you.”

“Hey just because you won this round doesn't make you better than me, fella.” Hawkeye stood and took the darts. He walked over towards the heater. With his back to the door, he started to throw the darts over his shoulder.

BJ hummed. As he handed over the drink to Nellie, he smiled. “I do believe this means I get to sit next to Nellie at the movie.”

The smile on Nellie's face grew. She could all but see Hawkeye's jealousy. With a nod at BJ, she agreed. “Why yes it does!”

“He's no fun,” argued Hawkeye.

Nellie just laughed. As she downed another drink of gin, she shrugged. “Sorry, Hawkeye. Fair is fair.” She stood from the cot and toasted Hawkeye with her martini glass. “Better luck next time.”

 


	10. N*I*N*E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they round up the usual suspects.

“ **Don’t forget to wear your Hawaiian shirt to Casablanca! Max “Dress to Impress” Klinger will be judging the fashion contest!”** The PA continued,  **“Tonight’s film will begin at 2000 hours exactly. Be there or be square.”**

 

Nellie shook her head. After eating dinner with Hawkeye, BJ, and Colonel Potter, she’d gone back to her tent. The soap she’d covered in nail polish were now dry. With some luck, she would be able to place them in the Swamp later.

 

A fashion contest? Nellie wondered just how bored her new friends got for that to be a semi-regular event. She had a feeling that Hawkeye would be participating. A part of her hoped that Klinger would show off his crossdressing so that she could experience it for herself. He seemed to have a great fashion sense - for the wrong sex. It made sense he would judge.

 

The man on the PA had said Hawaiian shirts, so Nellie took down Jack's pink, white, and aqua shirt from her wall. Off went her fatigues and on went the Hawaiian shirt. Using a rubber band, she gathered the excess material and tied it off to the side. With khaki shorts and a small, white flower pin from Honolulu for her hair, she completed what she hoped to be an acceptably fashionable outfit.

 

A knock sounded on her door. Nellie opened it. To her pleasant surprise, it was Shari and Kellye. Both wore their own Hawaiian shirts as well, and each had put their hair into pigtails.

 

"Hey," Nellie said. She shifted in her doorway, trying to adjust her sandals.

 

"We were hoping you'd come share some brownies Peggy got from home." Kellye gestured behind them.

 

With a big smile, Nellie nodded. "Of course! I'd be honored."

 

The sun had gone down a few minutes before. Only light from the Post Op windows and a few fires lit the compound. But even so, the camp was far from quiet as they left Nellie's tent. Corpsmen and nurses alike wandered to and from the Mess Tent. Dinner would be closing any minute. They had to prepare for the movie. She wondered if the whole camp would show up for it!

 

"Peggy's mom makes the most fantastic brownies." Shari subconsciously licked her lips. "They're even still good by the time we get them!"

 

"To be fair, I bet everything other than Mess Tent food is fantastic," quipped Nellie.

 

"You'd have thought." But Shari shook her head. "Then I tasted Peg Hunnicutt's fruit cake."

 

Kellye laughed. "I didn't think it was half bad! But really, I just long for Tokyo. Real Asian cooking. It's like my grandmother would make for us back home." As she trailed off, they reached their tent.

 

Light streamed out despite the drawn curtains and laughter escaped the door. Kellye knocked once. Without waiting, she went inside. There they found Judy Able, Peggy Bigelow, and Margaret.

 

"Major O'Hara!" Peggy grinned. The two had been hastily introduced during the OR session, but hadn't spoken since. "Welcome to the Bunkhouse!"

 

Nellie grinned back. "Please, Nellie's fine." She looked around. A bunk bed sat to either side of the door. Near the entrance, each side had a small end table too. On the third wall, straight ahead, a simple wooden desk and hutch provided workable space. "So the Bunkhouse, eh?"

 

"Only the finest nursing accomodations south of the 38th parallel," joked Shari.

 

"Excuse me?" Margaret objected.

 

"Major, you have your own tent! That doesn't count," Kellye said.

 

They all laughed.

 

"Here, have a brownie." Peggy offered a large tin to her. The side had 'The Bigelow Family' scrawled in red script. Inside were one inch by one inch little brownies. "My mom baked them."

 

Nellie popped one in her mouth. The chocolate explosion she was treated to made her eyes widen substantially. "Oh wow," she managed to say after swallowing.

 

The whole tent laughed. Shari seemed especially smug at her reaction. Quickly, Peggy Bigelow passed out brownies to the other nurses. Nellie grabbed a second one. The others followed suit as Peggy went to put the tin away; twenty hundred hours was rapidly approaching.

 

"Will I see you at the movie?" Nellie asked Margaret.

 

They walked next to each other away from the Bunkhouse. Half a dozen corpsmen hurried into the Mess Tent, all wearing some degree of Hawaiian fashion. Nellie recognized the orderly Goldman and Staff Sergeant Zale. The doors closed shut behind them.

 

"Oh I don't know," said Margaret. She shrugged. 

 

Nellie flashed her a small smile. She turned to face her as they stood between their own tents. "I'd love for you to come. I need you to sit next to me so Hawkeye can't take that side."

 

At that, Margaret gave a small laugh. "Alright. Give me a few minutes to freshen up."

 

She grinned. Nellie headed back inside her tent and looked at the small mirror she'd hung on her desk. She'd never been one to care particularly about her appearance besides looking presentable and professional. Tonight she decided to apply a bit of makeup. After all, there was going to be a fashion contest.

 

When she was confident in her appearance being what she wanted, Nellie left her tent. A nearby lamp lit the area near her. She leaned against her door. 

 

"You know, you look ravishing standing under an army regulation light bulb."

 

Nellie turned her attention right at Hawkeye's comment. Both he and BJ were striding over. The smirks on both their faces had her both smiling and rolling her eyes. "Shouldn't you two be getting good seats for the movie?"

 

"Hawk wanted to try begging you to sit next to him," BJ quipped.

 

"I object! I don't beg. I will implore, beseech, entreat. I will even grovel. But I will not beg!"

 

Nellie nodded to him. "How very noble. In that case, I won't insult your intelligence by rejecting you again." As she smiled his way, they all were distracted by the appearance of Margaret from her tent next door. "Ah. Now here's someone else worth sitting next to."

 

Margaret gave a small smirk. But then she put her hands on her hips and faced the two Captains. "Pierce, are you harassing her?"

 

"Me? Harass?"

 

Nellie bit her lip to keep from smirking again. "Don't worry, Margaret. I can handle myself around a flirtatious Captain." 

 

A look of surprise and a silent gasp passed over Hawkeye. He was about to object at the unspoken challenge when Nellie and Margaret walked right past him laughing. Neither caught what Hawkeye said to BJ, or BJ back to Hawk, but they figured it wasn't for their ears anyways.

 

The Mess Tent was already starting to fill up. Margaret took the end of the third bench back, Nellie sitting down next to her. Before long, BJ and Hawkeye had joined them. A small part of her wanted to apologize to Hawkeye for her quip, but whenever she went to do so, the words wouldn't form. She had her pride to maintain, after all.

 

"No Hawaiian shirt, Margaret?" BJ asked. He took his seat next to Nellie, stepping over the bench from the back. His own orange shirt complimented his blonde hair nicely.

 

"I don't own one."

 

"I was told there would be popcorn?" Nellie asked a moment later. "Where do we get it?" BJ gestured to the back of the tent, and she thanked him. After asking Margaret if she wanted any, Nellie hurried to get some for herself. She wasn't the least bit surprised to find Hawkeye pop up next to her at the popcorn station.

 

"That was a blow below the belt back there," he teased. His blue eyes looked down into her own. "How could you shoot a man in the back like that?"

 

"Well, that's the safest way, isn't it?" Nellie shrugged. With a tiny smile, she shook her head. Then she paused. "Tell you what. I do owe you something for that joke. How about we grab drinks at the O Club after the movie." At his growing smile, she held up her hand. "Just drinks. And, you need to stop trying so hard to get me in the Supply Room. I am a doctor here, as well as a woman, and as… somewhat flattering… as the flirting is, I need you to dial it back."

 

Hawkeye grabbed two little yellow bags of popcorn. He nodded. "It's a date." When she went to object, he stepped back and laughed. "A joke. Just a joke!"

 

Even though she smiled, her laughter was hesitant. Still, she trusted him. Despite his pursuit of her and the other women, she had yet to hear any negative stories about the man. In fact, Hawkeye seemed to be just about the most liked man in camp. 

 

They returned to their seats, Nellie with her own popcorn, and Hawk with his and BJ's. As a precursor to the movie, Klinger chose Peggy Bigelow as the fashion contest winner and did not, unfortunately, wear a dress to do so. The picture itself started around 2015 hours. 

 

While Claude Rains rounded up the usual suspects in Casablanca and Ingrid Bergman cried her eyes out, the camp was in high spirits. Half way through, Nellie excused herself on the pretense of using the latrine. Instead, she switched the soaps of the Swamp's occupants with her own, altered bars.

 

She returned to her spot between BJ and Margaret just as Rick and Laszlo began talking.

 

_ "Don't you sometimes wonder if it's worth all this? I mean what you're fighting for?" _

 

_ "We might as well question why we breathe. If we stop breathing, we'll die. If we stop fighting our enemies, the world will die. " _

 

_ "What of it? Then it'll be out of its misery." _

 

The movie continued, the tragic love story of Ilsa and Rick coming to its climax as duty to freedom crushed their romance yet again. There was not a dry eye in the Mess Tent as the plane carrying Victor Laszlo and Ilsa flew off into the dark. As the rain fell around them, Renaud and Rick shared a few words to end it.

 

The lights came on, and thundering applause erupted with it. Nellie had wiped away her tears quickly before the lights, and now smiled at the blank projector screen. BJ and Margaret both left quickly. They were eager to sleep. But Nellie stayed to make good on her offer to Hawkeye.

 

"Drinks?"

 

"After you," Hawkeye said. 

 

Nellie took her unfinished bag of popcorn with her. She munched on it. As they crossed the compound, a dozen or so corpsmen and nurses accompanied them. Clearly she hadn't been the only one with the idea for drinks.

 

"Hey, why don't we go to Rosie's? You haven't been introduced to that fine backwater establishment?" 

 

Nellie looked at him skeptically. "Now this is starting to sound like a date."

 

"No, no, no. I promise. Scout's honor." He held him his fingers. "Rosie's is cheaper than the Officers' Club."

 

"Were you ever even a boy scout?"

 

"Not the point."

 

She rolled her eyes. "Lead the way."


	11. T*E*N

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nellie lets Hawkeye buy her a drink, but conversation brings up unpleasant memories.

Hawkeye and Nellie strode side by side down the road the short distance to Rosie's Bar. The front looked about as dilapidated as Nellie had predicted. Wood and sheet metal comprised the walls and roof, and a sign with the painted word "Rosie's" welcomed weary travelers. In the dark of Korea at midnight, a warm glow emanated from inside.

"Cozy," Nellie said.

As she went inside, the smell of beer and cheap liquor hit her nose. Half a dozen patrons, mostly American soldiers, lounged at the wooden tables. At the side of the bar near another doorway, a youthful Korean woman cleaned a table. She picked up crumbs and used glasses.

Hawkeye grabbed an open table in the middle. Nellie slid in next to him, the grin on his face widening as the Korean bartender came over. He gestured to her. "Rosie, meet Nellie, Nellie, Rosie. She's the finest bartender this side of the 38th Parallel."

"Flattery won't get you free drinks, Hawkeye," she deadpanned. Then she turned to Nellie. "New nurse?"

"Surgeon, actually," Nellie corrected.

Rosie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I thought only men were surgeons in US army?"

"Until recently, yes," said Nellie. "I'm glad to be one of the first."

"Well, let me tell you. No discounts here even for a woman surgeon. And all my drinks are legit. I want no trouble with any MP's, so don't let this one get you into a mess." She gestured to Hawkeye.

Immediately he protested her comment. "When was the last time you had trouble from me." He smiled at her innocently, his eyes squeezing shut in the process.

"How about three weeks ago when you and the rest of you medical people got me closed from the MPs! It took me a week just to reopen!" She turned from Hawkeye to Nellie so he couldn't reply. With a tight smile, she continued. "What'll it be?"

"Just a beer, please."

Hawkeye ordered the same. Rosie left them to go get their drinks. At the entrance of three more soldiers, Nellie glanced up. Her mind wandered, wondering who they were. They didn't seem to be from the 4077th.

"So you said you're originally from New York?"

Hawkeye's question pulled her back into the present. She nodded. "Born and raised. My parents lived there until their deaths. I only moved out of the City for college and med school." Rosie set down their drinks. Taking the lukewarm glass beer bottle in her right hand, Nellie ran her fingers over the ridges. "It was fine. I prefer Baltimore."

"I did my residency in Boston," Hawkeye said. He took a drink before continuing. "I visited New York City a few times."

"You said you're from Maine?"

"Crabapple Cove." At the mention of his hometown, his smile grew. The sides of his eyes wrinkled ever so slightly in pride and happiness. He shook his head. "Best place to grow up, ever. Anyone who says otherwise is lying."

Nellie laughed. She took a drink. "You're mighty sure of yourself."

"Crabapple Cove is where a kid can be a kid. Rolling greenery, storms with buckets of snow to stop everything in winter. You can sled or go fishing or just run around." Hawkeye played with his beer bottle absentmindedly. "It's just…"

"Your parents still live there, then?"

Hawkeye nodded. "My dad does."

"Right, he's the doctor?" She nodded, remembering their first conversation about Crabapple Cove.

"Right. He helped birth basically the entire population since he set up his practice. Not that that's many people. It's a small town." After a pause, he continued, "My mother passed away when I was a kid. It's just the two of us, though I do have a few cousins who are almost like sisters."

Nellie smiled. The wooden chair she sat on was mildly uncomfortable, and she had to shift position. She leaned more forward on the table and grabbed a small pretzel from the sparse pretzel basket. "Jack and I moved in together after our parents died and I moved to Baltimore for med school. Neither of us are in relationships, and he had just moved back to the States from Honolulu around the time I finished pre-med."

"How did your family feel about you wanting to be a surgeon?" Hawkeye asked. Leaning forward, he couldn't hide his curiosity.

Nellie shrugged. "My mother was slightly opposed. She always wanted me to learn to be a good housewife and give her grandchildren." A tiny smile crossed her face. Then she let out a small laugh at the memory. "I was great at cleaning and sewing. Lousy at cooking. My dad though, he was always behind me. He and Jack. Once I told my mom to just think of surgery as sewing up the human body, she came around to the idea."

Hawkeye let out a laugh at her statement. With a quick yet dramatic last drink of his beer, he slammed his bottle onto the table. "That's one way to think about it."

"It worked." She chuckled. Giving a tiny shrug, she downed some more of her own beer. "Did you choose to be a doctor because of your dad?"

"Yeah, I guess. Seeing him change lives with medicine… it changed my own. He always loved his patients. They mean everything to him." He trailed off, drumming his fingers on the table. Then he looked up. "Rosie!"

"Another beer?" When he nodded, she continued, "Let me see the money first."

"Rosie you know I'm good for it!"

She shook her head. "Money."

Hawkeye snorted and took out some bills from his pocket. "Here. This should cover all three of the drinks."

"Beer, coming right up."

Nellie watched him trade the money for the beer. She appreciated him covering her tab. He seemed fidgety, ever more than usual. Clearly the topic of medicine caused him some kind of struggle. "How long have you been over here?"

"A lifetime of hell," he snapped out.

With a small frown, Nellie sat back in her chair, away from him. She had caught glimpses of his anger before. It seemed that like his flirting and his laughing and his smiling, that his anger was both quick to happen and passionately strong.

He sighed. "Coming up on two years. Every time I get close to discharge, they increase the tour for surgeons." Tightly he gripped his fists. "Between the summers that make you want to strip and the winters that freeze your limbs off, with the endless malaria mosquitoes and of course the goddamn war, it's our own personal hell out here."

"I'm sorry."

Hawkeye didn't say anything in response. He just shook his head. "Feel bad for yourself. You're here now." He took another drink.

She hummed in acknowledgement. But at the same time, as much as she expected herself to dislike the rats and the food and the weather and the war itself, the prospect of advancing in her career here was attractive. Sidney's voice echoed in her mind. Why, why did she feel the need to prove herself better than the rest. What caused this drive for recognition? Nellie herself was only partially aware of it.

"Why did you ever volunteer to come to this hell hole?" Hawkeye had resisted asking the question, but he couldn't control his curiosity any longer. He leaned towards her across the wooden table top.

Nellie stiffened. Memories of the exact same conversation flashed before her eyes, but that time it had been between her and Molly. She could still remember the shouting match they'd had in Molly's sitting room. Anger fed both women, one fueled by anger at the army, and the other fueled by anger at restrained ambition. She felt heat rising to her cheeks. The grip she held on the beer bottle turned her knuckles white. Finally she took a deep breath through her nose and sat straighter. "I saw an opportunity and I seized it."

"This isn't an opportunity, this is a disaster," Hawkeye argued immediately. "Everything here stinks. The food, the beds, the war."

"If you were back home right now, where would you want to work?"

The question caught him off guard. "Probably a hospital somewhere."

"You'd want to be a world class surgeon, I'd imagine. I saw you work. You're several steps above the usual surgeons."

"Well, yeah-"

Nellie cut him off. "You've seen me work. What do you think?"

"You graduated Johns Hopkins," he pointed out. "You're fantastic, but-"

Again, she shook her head. At the same time, she abruptly set her beer bottle back in the table after a drink. "Back in the States, my best friend, Molly, is struggling to stay employed. She's a top-notch surgeon. We graduated 6th and 7th at Johns. But after med school, she moved west. She had no contacts there in the working world. Zero. So she had to start new." Nellie frowned. "No one wants a female surgeon. There are some people trying to help her, some men in the field who she's befriended, but the older men in the system keep stopping her advancement."

"Sorry."

"Not your fault." She frowned again. "I was fortunate. Johns Hopkins invited me to stay and do Residency there at the hospital, and then offered me a position afterwards. I didn't have to start from nothing for my job. I'm a damn good surgeon. But where am I in the hospital hierarchy? Second from the bottom. Who's at the top? A man whose family name bought him the position."

Hawkeye stayed quiet. He didn't stop holding his drink, but it stayed on the table. As she continued, he just listened.

"Then six months ago I get a call. It's from some general in the Army. He'd been an acquaintance of my brother's during his time in the service. I'm given an opportunity to join the army. I'm given an opportunity to do something no woman has ever done. I'm given a chance at real respect. And I can help people along the way."

Hawkeye let out a small breath. He straightened up. "Well. I'm still sorry."

"So am I. I'm sorry that the only option I had to advance my career was by being sent to Korea." Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the table in her left hand. Tears threatened to pool up in her eyes, but she restrained herself. Her breath continued to hitch as she did so, and her cheeks flushed. She could feel it. She could hear Molly yelling at her for her choice, but more than that, she could hear herself screaming back.

Hawkeye clearly noticed. He stood. "Come on. The walk past the minefield is brilliant this time of night."

"You go. I might grab another drink," she argued quickly. To her embarrassment, she could hear the quavering in her own voice. She cleared her throat. "I'm really not tired."

But Hawkeye just laughed. "Come on. What kind of non-date would this be if you didn't let me walk you back! After all I am a world renowned perfect gentleman."

"Fine." Nellie shook her head as she stood from the table. She took out a dollar from her pocket and left it as tip for Rosie.

When they walked outside, Nellie wrinkled her nose. The wind came from the direction of the cesspool. So despite the pleasant temperature, it was hardly enjoyable. A full moon shined down on them. Only a few clouds floated across the sky, obscuring various constellations she couldn't identify.

"Of the women who got the offer, did you know any of them?" Hawkeye asked. They walked down the side of the road, his hands in his pockets.

"Not of the ones who accepted. Molly was invited but she declined." Nellie shrugged, one arm across her chest holding the other. "The other four who agreed to come were from other hospitals."

He nodded. Soon they passed under the sign for the 4077th. To the left, orderly tents lined the side. They passed these in silence. Then came the nurses tents, and Father Mulcahy's. Nellie's tent came last.

"Thanks for paying," she said quickly. "I now owe you, which I don't like." Hawkeye just laughed, and she found it infectious. It made her smile.

"I'm sure I'll figure out a way to make that useful," he joked.

Nellie rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you will. Good night." After he echoed her sentiments, she went inside her tent. She was exhausted. As soon as it was just her in her tent, she found it difficult to keep her eyes open. But she wanted to write her brother before sleeping.

She turned off the hanging light over her bed and just left on the one at her desk. It let off a soft glow. The paper she pulled out of her desk seemed off white in the pale lighting. She took a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. Taking her pen in her hand, she stared down at the paper. She had told herself that her next letter would be to Molly, but too many emotions churned inside her for that.

_"Dear Jack,_

_We saw Casablanca tonight-"_

She stopped. Nellie glanced at the clock. In Baltimore, it was a little after noon. She set her pen down. Why not call him?


	12. E*L*E*V*E*N

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack talks to Nellie.

Nellie brought along her scotch bottle as compensation for Klinger. She did feel legitimately bad about having to wake him at nearly 0200 hours, but she needed to hear Jack's voice. When she slowly opened the door, she paused to look at Klinger's sleeping form.

She let the door close audibly behind her as she stepped inside. With a bottle of scotch in one hand, and a pair of shot glasses in the other, she stood by the desk. As it shut, Klinger jumped awake.

He groaned, then rubbed his eyes. "Whoever is waking me up better-" After wiping the sleep from his eyes, he realized it was Nellie. "Oh, Major." He yawned. "What's the matter?"

Nellie frowned. "I'm sorry to wake you, Klinger, but I need to call my brother."

"That's okay. It's not like sleep is hard to grab for a company clerk in a MASH unit," he grumbled. But Klinger got up from his bed and threw on his pink bathrobe over his drab shirt and shorts. "Where's your brother?"

She cringed at his thinly veiled complaint. "Baltimore, Maryland."

"We can try to get through," he said. "But no promises. And it might take awhile."

Nellie shrugged. "It's alright. I brought you a glass of scotch as payment." She opened it and poured him a glass.

He grinned in surprise. "Thanks!" Klinger sat down at his desk and grabbed the phone. A few quick turns and it was operational. It took a moment before the ringing stopped. "Hey Sparky, it's Klinger. Yes I know it's late. Ye- Yes I know. Lis… would you stop complaining! I need you to patch me through to the operator in Tokyo. We need to reach Baltimore." He rolled his eyes as silence reigned in the office, but Sparky ranted in his phone. "Yes, Baltimore, Maryland. Listen, it's important Sparky. Just try."

Nellie stood by the desk, sipping at her own shot glass. Her face sat in a perpetual frown. Reaching Baltimore was a long shot, but she hoped that calling in the middle of the night would help.

He turned to Nellie. "We're being patched through to Tokyo." Before she could reply, he spoke back into the phone. "I need to place a call to Baltimore, Maryland, United States. This is the 4077th MASH in Uijeongbu." He nodded as the operator responded. "It's an emergency."

At his urging to place the call, Nellie found herself smiling. Despite his complaining, he was doing his best to help her. She smiled again when he turned to her.

"Tokyo's putting the call through. It'll need to go to Honolulu, and then San Francisco and Washington before they'll route it to Baltimore." He stood from his chair. "Here, I'm going back to bed. They'll just ask for the address."

"Thanks, Klinger." She nodded in appreciation. "I'll be quiet."

He waved her off. As he rolled back into bed, she took his spot at the desk. With the phone on her ear, she took another drink. To her surprise, it only took about half an hour before she'd been put through to an operator in Baltimore.

" _Please state the person and address you'd like to call_ ," said a scratchy, older voice on the line.

Nellie sat straighter. Her grip on the phone tightened. "Jackson O'Hara, 2614 East Baltimore Street."

" _Please remain on the line."_

She did so. Her heart started beating faster, and she could feel her palms sweating. Concerned thoughts of whether he would miss the call filled her mind. But when the ringing stopped, and the all too familiar voice of her older brother echoed through the distance between them like he stood next to her, she let out a relieved laugh.

" _Hello_?"

"Jack! Jack it's Nellie." She felt herself almost start to cry. The walls of the clerical office fell away and suddenly she forgot Klinger was in there too. All she knew was her brother was on the line.

" _Nellie! Wow._ " His laughter sounded across the line.  _"How are you? What's it like? You saving a lot of lives already_?"

Her emotions threatened to overcome her. But she just breathed as well as she could and nodded to herself. "It's… it's interesting. I sent a letter out a little while ago for you… but I needed to hear your voice."

 _"I'm glad you called. I'm even more glad the call went through! I remember how bad the army is about long distance stuff."_  After a pause he continued. " _But I don't think you called for no reason. What's wrong?"_

"What do you mean?" Her breath hitched.

_"I know you, Nell. A letter usually works just fine for you. And you haven't breathed normally since this call started."_

She paused. Collapsing forward into a slump on the desk, she felt tears filling her eyes. "A conversation I had tonight got me thinking about Molly and mom and dad."

_"You haven't talked to her since the attempt to smooth things over, have you?"_

Nellie rested her forehead in her left hand as her right gripped the phone. A sigh escaped her. "I mostly did smooth things over. But you know my decision to enlist really upset her."

 _"I know."_  He paused and neither spoke. " _Mom and dad would be so proud of you. I'm proud of you. You know that."_

She couldn't stop a choked sob from escaping her. Her hand flew to her mouth. When she pulled it away, it was wet from her tears. "Hah. I guess I needed to hear that more than I thought," she muttered.

" _You don't hear it enough."_

A sigh escaped her between tears. "Wish you were here."

 _"I wish you were_  here _. I don't want to go back into a warzone_ ," he joked.

She could hear the pain in his voice, though. She released a strained laughed. Sniffling back tears, she wiped her eyes with her left hand. Strands of her long black hair had become plastered to her cheeks. She cleared them. "They're going to cut us off soon. Oh Jack, do me a favor! Sidney Freedman's here! Let the Johns crew know I met up with him, would you?"

" _Sure. Stay safe, Nellie. I pray for you every day._ "

A small smile graced her face. "Thank you. I love you."

 _"I know_." Then he laughed. " _Love you too_."

The connection ended and Nellie spent a moment longer lingering with the phone pressed against her ear. But when the silence continued to ring in her ear, she put the phone gently on the desk and buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders ached. She'd been stiff for far too long. When Klinger stepped up and put the phone away, she was jolted back into reality.

"Thanks, Klinger. I'll let you sleep," she said. Quickly, Nellie bolted up from the chair and grabbed the glasses and scotch bottle.

"I hope you get some rest, Major," replied Klinger. He flashed her a small smile as she turned to look at him.

She nodded, but ducked into the night air before he could say anything else. In the dark, her tears fell unseen across her cheeks. The sentries on duty didn't stop her as she hurried to her tent. Once inside she took another drink of scotch. With the burning in her throat from the alcohol, Nellie undressed and changed into her light green satin pajamas. Fortunately it didn't take long before she fell asleep.

A knock on her door woke her up the next morning. The clock read 0732. Groaning, Nellie threw back her blanket, wrapped her lilac bathrobe around herself, and opened the door. She was surprised to find BJ and Hawkeye at her door. Both wore their bathrobes, blue for BJ and burgundy for Hawkeye. Hair wet and standing on end, skin still with occasional patches of watery residue, she figured they'd come from the showers.

"What do you need?" Nellie asked, standing taller. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at them skeptically. To her irritation, the sky still had a slight shade of pink fading into light blue. "And what are you doing up this early."

"Well," Hawkeye trailed off. Then he put his arm on the doorframe and leaned against it. "What were we doing, Beej?"

"Showering," he said.

Nellie felt a smirk creeping onto her face. She forced it away and instead nodded. "Congratulations. I knew you could do it."

Hawkeye scoffed and threw his head back. "Don't play innocent. What did you do to the soap?"

"What's wrong with it?"

BJ half smiled, have bit his lip. "Oh, nothing." He gestured with his hands. "It just wasn't soap."

"Oh?" Finally she couldn't help it. Seeing BJ so disgruntled made her start laughing. "Okay, okay." She leaned against the doorframe where Hawkeye had his arm. "Do me a favor though. Don't tell Charles."

The two other surgeons exchanged a quick look. BJ had a good poker face, but Hawkeye burst out excitedly moments later, rubbing his hands together. "Let the pranks begin."

Nellie smiled at his excitement. With a small shake of her head, she sighed. "If you two would excuse me, I would like to get ready for the day. Since you saw fit to wake me this early."

"Up late?" Hawkeye asked her. He stood away from the door.

She froze briefly. Straightening up, Nellie found her arms across her chest again. She forced a smile. "Maybe." After smiling again, she turned from the door and went inside.

Standing in front of her mirror, she sighed. Her hair caught on her fingers as she ran her hand through it. It would need a thorough brushing after her shower. By the time she reached the showers, it was nearly 0800.

To her relief, they were unoccupied. She hung up her towel and bathrobe and stepped into the closer of the two shower stalls. When the lukewarm water hit her face, her shoulders relaxed. She let the light spray of water soak her hair and wash her dirtied skin. Suddenly she felt lighter.

By the time she'd finished and wrapped her hair in a red towel, Nurse Davis had taken up the further shower stall. They exchanged pleasantries. As Nellie walked out into the Korean air, she blinked back. Somehow the cloud cover had all disappeared in the ten minutes since she's reached the shower.

Nellie hurried back to her tent. After throwing on her fatigues, she dried her hair as best she could, brushed it, and prepared herself to go back out into the world. When she walked outside, she spotted Hawkeye and BJ across the compound chatting with Klinger and Colonel Potter. Hawkeye's hands moved as he talked, and Klinger looked just as animated. She approached them, still running a hand through her hair.


	13. T*W*E*L*V*E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nellie gets a headache

It was BJ who caught sight of her first. He had changed into a faded pink shirt and the standard drab pants, while Hawkeye still wore his bathrobe over fatigues. Klinger also was out of uniform. His Mudhens jersey was so white that Nellie had to blink back for a moment when she approached. Only the Colonel was properly dressed.

 

The warm sun beat down on her exposed arms. Her choice of tank top meant less sweat hopefully, but she would need to be careful in the sun. She saw BJ gesture towards her. The movement was small, almost secret. 

 

"Ah, look who it is," Hawkeye said. "The soap snatcher."

 

Nellie just smiled, blinking against the sun and moving into a bit of shade near the door to Post Op. She shook her head. "Soap snatcher? I didn't snatch anything."

 

Colonel Potter shook his head. "You started something here, Major. These two won't forget this. Better watch your behind." With a quiet snicker, he left them alone. "I'm taking Sophie out. Try not to kill each other while I'm gone. I'd hate to make Klinger fill out all that paperwork."

 

"That I can agree with," Klinger said. Then he turned back to the two Captains. "I'll have the supplies you requested delivered to your tent as soon as I can requisition them."

 

Nellie smiled. "Supplies?" She crossed her arms over her chest. Already she could feel the sweat forming beneath her shirt in the middle. "Trying to get back at me?"

 

"We can't tell you that now can we?" BJ said.

 

Hawkeye agreed. "You'll get what you deserve. That's truth, justice, and the American way."

 

"A super catch phrase. Maybe you should patent that," quipped BJ. He went to continue, but was interrupted by a voice over the PA.

 

**"A new offensive is to be started by the Americans. Hill 403 will be providing us casualties within 36 hours. Please don't get too drunk!"**

 

As the announcement ended, the camp seemed to collectively release a breath. Everyone who Nellie could see, nurses and orderlies and surgeons, had paused at the PA announcement. Now they returned to normal. 

 

Nellie's heart raced. She gripped her palms tightly and then released, letting her breath go as she did so. Sidney had taught her several techniques to help with stress for herself and Jack when they'd been in Baltimore together. 

 

Breathe in for four, hold for four, breathe out for four, hold for four, repeat.

 

"They're always going up that same damn hill," Hawkeye said. He picked up a rock and threw it off down the road, past the basketball hoop.

 

BJ just let out a small huff. "Maybe they should stop trying to imitate the nursery rhyme."

 

The old rhyme about Jack and Jill spun through her head. Nellie just flashed a smile, hoping to force herself to relax. When BJ, Klinger, and Hawkeye went off to breakfast and invited her, she felt her stomach churn. Still she accepted.

 

As they got their food and settled into a table, Nellie watched Hawkeye's facial expressions. He was always expressive, no matter what he was feeling. In this case, she watched him sniff at the yellow stuff that passed for eggs in Korea. His nose wrinkled and his lips curled.

 

"Beej, do you know what it smells like today?" He put a scoop of eggs into his fork and held it out to his friend. "Guess."

 

"Hawk I don't want to guess."

 

"C'mon! It took me over a minute to figure it out this time! Here," he said again.

 

BJ rolled his eyes and set his own fork down. He paused. Then he moved his head to sniff the eggs.

 

"Boiled chicken feces."

 

The expression on BJ's face changed from mild discomfort to disgust. He glared at his friend. "See. Now I can't eat it! I hate it when you make me smell your food!"

 

Nellie agreed. "That helped a total of no one."

 

"But it does! That's the smell!"

 

"How could you even identify that," Nellie pointed out. At this point, she'd pushed her eggs as far to the side of her tray as possible. Toast for today, she supposed.

 

Hawkeye snorted. "I just know."

 

"Uh huh." 

 

Nellie returned to eating quietly. By the end, she had managed to down some of the powdered eggs, and though the powdered milk was barely an improvement, it did wash it down. While Hawkeye and BJ left to do something no doubt foolish, Nellie headed to Post-Op.

 

Peggy Bigelow was on duty. She smiled at Nellie as the surgeon walked in. "Just in time. I was wondering where you were."

 

"Sorry. I got caught up trying to force down the eggs from breakfast," said Nellie. She walked through the more than half empty Post Op to the nurse's desk. "Anything I should know?"

 

"No, I don't think so. The last few cases are getting shipped to the 121st in a few hours. We need to make room for the next batch of wounded."

 

Nellie nodded. She hooked her stethoscope around her neck and slipped into the white doctor's coat that Klinger had told her about over breakfast. Almost all of the last few patients had all been treated by Hawkeye. The first lay close to the desk.

 

As she stood at the foot of his bed, she shot a small smile his way. Brown hair, brown eyes, African American. He couldn't have been over twenty-five. "How are you feeling today, Bratson?"

 

He put down his clipboard. "Doing pretty good, Major. Thanks."

 

"I'm so glad to hear that." 

 

Nellie read his chart. His numbers looked relatively healthy. With a small smile, she watched him work away at what she assumed was a letter. She finally put the clipboard back on the hook and moved to sit on a chair next to his bed. 

 

"Who are you writing?" 

 

Bratson grinned wide. Setting his stuff down again, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small polaroid picture. The girl in the photo was also black, and her pearly white smile shined through the faded, bent photo. "This is Mary Hudgins. She's my lil lady."

 

"She's beautiful." Nellie took the photo from him. It was worn, bloodstained. The black and white had faded into grey in some places. Well loved. 

 

"Yeah, that she is. A right beauty. Kind and smart too." Bratson took the photo back and looked at it closely. With a sigh, he rested back into his pillow more. 

 

Nellie got up and moved down the line. The next of the remaining five soldiers was an older white fellow. The sandy brown hair on his head matched a small mustache on his face. She forced herself not to grimace. Another of Hawkeye's patients, he had made it clear he didn't appreciate a woman doctor being anywhere near him. And at Second Lieutenant, he thought himself pretty damn smart.

 

"Good morning Lieutenant Tarlye." She forced herself to smile at him. "Feeling well enough to travel?"

 

"What do you want, Major," he bit back. His gritted teeth barely opened as he spoke. Disdain dripped from the word Major, and he certainly didn't smile.

 

Her face hardened and jaw clenched. She was not in the mood for his scorn. Quite the contrary, she had reached her maximum tolerance for it. "Respect would be nice."

 

He scoffed. 

 

As he opened his mouth to retort, she drew herself. "Be very careful with your next words, Lieutenant. Because I may be a woman, but I am also a Major, and I am fully capable of putting you on report for both insubordination and conduct unbecoming of an officer." When he shut his mouth, she nodded. She hung up his clipboard and moved on.

 

A painful headache started in the base of her skull. She saw to the next three patients quietly. It took another twenty minutes, but in the end she had checked them all thoroughly. The Colonel's last remaining patient had been a talkative eighteen year old, and her headache had grown into an even larger dull ache.

 

With two quick movements, she hung up her stethoscope and coat. She vaguely heard Peggy talking to Margaret as she ducked back out into the sun. An audible groan escaped her.

 

"Things not going well?"

 

Nellie reopened her eyes and blinked against the sun at Shari's voice. "Nothing I'm not used to. But I snapped about it quicker than I should've." She stuck her hands in her pants pockets and shrugged. "What are you up to?"

 

"I'm heading to Rosie's with Roy, Zale, and Kellye. Want to join us?" 

 

"No thanks. I'm getting a headache," she said. "Have fun."

 

Shari didn't move off. "Was it the lieutenant again?"

 

Nellie sighed. She rubbed her forehead. "Yeah. I shouldn't let him get to me, but it was a rough night and I wasn't prepared to deal with it."

 

"I'm sorry." She flashed a small smile at Nellie, hoping it would help. "You should grab a nap. Maybe it'll get rid of your headache."

 

"Yeah. Thanks."

 

Shari smiled again and moved off towards the Mess Tent. With a sigh, Nellie just walked towards her own tent. Hoping to catch an hour's nap, she hurried off. Once in her own tent, she used a towel to wipe the sweat from under her arms. The heat had been steadily worsening with each day, and it had only been about a week.

 

Nellie released the window flaps of her tent to block as much light as possible. She hoped a bit of a nap would get rid of the dull ache. Too little sleep and too much sun contributed, she guessed. Finally she laid down. Sleep consumed her in minutes.

 

When she woke up a couple hours later, it was to a soft knock on her door. She pulled on her army-issued button down and wrapped her hair up. At last she opened the door. To her surprise, Father Mulcahy stood waiting.

 

"Father?" 

 

"Major," he said. "I hope I'm not disturbing you?"

 

"No, no." She smiled. "Come in. I feel bad that I haven't talked to you more since getting here."

 

Father just smiled back. "Yes, I did see in your records that you're Catholic, but I never assume anyone wants to talk to me just because of that."

 

She stood away from the door. Taking a seat on the edge of her bed, Nellie gestured for Father to take her desk chair. "What can I do for you?"

 

"I have a problem. There's this surgeon I know who's facing tremendous odds, and has been for a long time. But I don't know how to help. I thought maybe you might have some idea?"

 

Nellie felt her cheeks warming. The corners of her mouth twitched up in the tiniest smile. "Father, I'm fine."

 

"It's been my observation that no one here is really 'fine'," he argued. "We all cope with this madness in a different way."

 

"I've only been here five days-"

 

"Five days is longer than anyone should have to suffer through." He sighed. "Major-"

 

"Nellie's fine, Father."

 

With a smile, he continued, "Nellie. You may not be used to relying on anyone. I imagine having to go through medical school would've forced you to learn to be on your own. I helped a young woman prepare for the entrance exam, and I found that even the women were less than supportive." When she didn't interrupt, he nodded. "However when you're here, I can only encourage you to use the resources here."

 

Nellie's eyebrows creased in confusion. "Resources?"

 

"Companionship. God didn't ask us to travel alone. He had the twelve. Saint Francis de Sales had Saint Jane de Chantal. Saint Patrick had Saint Clare…" After a pause, he continued. "Remember Galatians. 'Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way, you will fulfill the law of Christ'."

 

She nodded. Ever since she was a child, Nellie had found it hard to fit in, to relate to her peers. She had always wanted more than them. She had always needed more knowledge, sought more knowledge. It had put her at odds with everyone. Maybe here, she needed to open herself up more. A simple prank here or there really didn't mean the same as a good conversation. So far her conversations with Hawkeye had gone the deepest. She needed Sidney back.

 

"I'll try, Father," she said at last. With a quick smile and a deep breath in, she stretched. "I should probably do something productive now."

 

But Father Mulcahy just laughed. "It's already lunch time. Join me? Their supposedly cooking something edible today."


	14. T*H*I*R*T*E*E*N

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the headache persists.

Nellie and Father Mulcahy walked in silence across the compound. The sun had reached its peak for the day, but a few clouds floated in the sky providing some shade. To Nellie's surprise, the compound was relatively deserted. No orderlies playing basketball, no nurses sunning themselves. She supposed it was just too hot. But when Father Mulcahy opened the Mess Tent door, she found her assumption was wrong.

Instead, the Mess Tent had been decorated with toilet paper streamers, cut out red medical crosses, and more than a few alcohol stands. A banner made of bedsheet hung from the ceiling as well, with a hastily painted 'Welcome Dr. Nellie' across it. But rowdiest of all were occupants. Many nurses and some orderlies and the entire staff of officers had gathered inside and were chewing on chips that someone had broken out.

"There she is!"

At Hawkeye's shout, Nellie turned his way and folded her arms. But a small smile crept onto her face. He wore his Hawaiian shirt and cowboy hat, and BJ had on his own fishing hat. Out of nowhere, Klinger plopped a party hat into her hands.

Someone shouted from the crowd. "Great! Now we can start eating!"

"We'd hate to keep you from your food, Rizzo," Klinger shouted back. Then he turned back. "Happy belated Welcome to Korea, Major."

Nellie laughed. "Thanks."

As the tent turned their attention towards food, she moved her way over to Hawkeye, BJ, Charles, and the Colonel. Margaret moved her way over, a glass of gin in her right hand for herself, and in her left hand for Nellie. She took it.

"Nice party," said Nellie. She couldn't force her growing smile away, and after a moment, she stopped trying. "Who do I have to thank for this?" She looked straight at Hawkeye and BJ.

Hawkeye shrugged innocently. "Well..." With a grin, he pointed behind her. "Klinger gathered the party supplies,"

Between sips of the gin, Nellie turned to thank him. He just shrugged in response. The group took their seats at an empty table, and Klinger said he'd go get them some food.

"So, what brought this on? I appreciate the gesture, but I am a bit confused."

BJ grinned. "We never got the chance to throw you one of these before!"

"And so you just thought to do it today?" She didn't buy the explanation for a minute. BJ and Hawkeye were too observant for their own good, and as Klinger returned with trays for her and for the Colonel, she realized he might've had something to do with it too. "Toilet paper is an interesting choice of decoration though."

"Such a base commodity suits this fetid mud pit" Charles argued. He set his tray down and stepped into his seat beside her, across from BJ. "Toilet paper for a MASH unit is like silk sheets in a normal house."

"Most normal houses don't have silk sheets, Charles," BJ reminded him. Charles just smiled back.

"I think it was a damn good idea, boys" Potter said. "This place needed a pick me up. People were getting as jittery as a june bug in July."

Hawkeye held up his gin. "Here, here."

The volume in the tent only increased as more and more people who hadn't gathered for the last minute party poured in for lunch. Peggy, Shari, Kellye and Judy brought over a small box. It had been wrapped neatly.

"Open it when other people aren't around," Peggy insisted. "These men may be officers, but I wouldn't put stealing past them if they saw what was inside." She winked at them.

Nellie laughed, and looked to Margaret for answers. The head nurse just objected. She had no answers. And so Nellie nodded. "Whatever you say."

"I say you should open it up!"

"Of course you do," Nellie said. "Thankfully, I have self control."

After he sent her a quick smirk, they fell into silence more or less. The food seemed to taste better than usual. As they ate, Nellie found herself thinking about earlier. As thoughts of home returned to the forefront of her mind, she began to question several things. The food's lackluster taste fell away, and instead fears of her qualifications took center stage.

She'd only been in Korea for five days. It had been two months since Baltimore, but most of that had been spent in Honolulu and Tokyo, two wonderful cities. And yet she felt this deep pit in her stomach. If she was feeling this horrible after only five days, how was she going to survive here? Maybe she'd been wrong to volunteer. Maybe the army had been wrong to offer.

Father's words encouraging her to reach out seemed pointless. What good would reaching out do? All her life she'd had to rely on herself. No one else there knew what it was like to be her. Molly had, but that bridge had been burned. Any discussion of military-related matters would only make her fragile peace with Molly worse.

"You alright, Major?"

At the Colonel's question, she shook herself out of her musings. With a quick smile, she put down her fork and smiled. "Yes, sorry. I was just thinking of something." She shrugged, pushing away her plate. "I've actually got a bit of a nasty headache. I think I'll try to nap it off. Thanks for the party." Nellie held up her party hat and smiled. She took it with her.

It was a migraine at this point. She could just tell. The pain had settled behind her left eye, and as she walked across camp the sun made it worse. Hopefully a bit more sleep would do the trick. More sleep, and less thinking.

When she woke up, the clock on the wall of her tent read 2140 hours. The first thing she noticed beyond the time, though, was that her head felt tremendously better. Gone was the pain and nausea, replaced instead by hunger. She had slept through dinner.

The next thing she noticed was a knock on her door. Nellie remember hearing it before; it must've been what woke her, she realized. So she went to the door in her tank top and shorts and pulled it open. It barely surprised her to find Hawkeye and BJ standing there.

"I'm starting to wonder if we need to talk about you not trying to get me to go on a date with you again." She turned to BJ, "Do you encourage him?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted it in the silence that followed.

"You missed dinner, and Peg sent more rum cookies," said BJ. "Hawk suggested we share."

Nellie looked between them. Then she sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Sorry. That was rude."

"I mean, I wouldn't say no if asking you to go on a date would work," added Hawkeye quickly.

Put at ease by his teasing, she laughed. "Maybe someday. I do believe you mentioned rum cookies, though." She invited them in with a tilt of her head.

"People might gossip if we come in," Hawkeye said with a wink. He walked right past her and sat on her desk chair.

She just laughed again. "Let them gossip. I'm fairly certain I'll create enough by just existing."

BJ went in and leaned against her desk as she sat on her bed. The tin of cookies popped as he undid it. Then he passed it to her.

"Thanks." Nellie tried to catch the crumbs in her hand as she crunched on her first cookie. Between bites, she turned to them. "I really do appreciate the food. I didn't mean to sleep through dinner."

BJ laughed. "Probably better that you did. It was terrible."

"No matter how many awful meals I get from the mess tent, it still surprises me," muttered Hawkeye. He took a cookie from the tin as well. Silence followed.

"So what prompted that party."

Hawkeye and BJ exchanged a quick glance. The former shrugged, and finished up his cookie before answering. "Well, Colonel Potter wasn't kidding, the camp's on a short fuse. Wounded's coming soon."

"You two like morale specialists or something?"

It was BJ's turn to answer. With a small laugh, he said, "Apparently the camp follows our lead."

"Or so the Colonel is fond of reminding us."

Nellie nodded. "So, a party."

"We figured you might appreciate it too. Bigelow said you didn't have an easy time in post op today." BJ let the silence follow his statement for a few moments.

Immediately she straightened up. Setting the tin to her right, she finished chewing and then shrugged. "I had a headache."

"Was it that lieutenant again," Hawkeye asked. He glared at the closed door before turning back to her. "You should really tell the Colonel-"

"Yeah, and what will he do?" She shook her head. "People don't change overnight. Even seeing me do a good job with his platoon isn't helping so I doubt a verbal thrashing from Colonel Potter will help."

"This camp used to have a dim view of female doctors," BJ admitted. "There was a nurse studying for the exam to medical school. It took a lot of work for her to gain the respect of many here. It can be done though."

Hawkeye grabbed another cookie. His leg shook up and down and he kept his hands busy. Finally, he spoke up again. "I knew a female surgeon. Inga was her name, from Sweden. Before her, I'd never met a single woman in the medical field other than nurses. I had a hard time accepting the fact that she could be as good and even better than me." He glanced at BJ and then back to Nellie. "Since then I've tried to rid myself of the poor opinions."

At first, she didn't respond. It touched her more than she was willing to admit that Hawkeye trusted her with his testimony. Thus far, he and BJ, and many of the nurses, had been nothing but accepting of her and she did have to admit it had been a surprise. Now she knew why. When she tried to respond, she found her voice didn't want to work. She looked beyond Hawkeye at the picture she'd taken with Molly and Jack.

"Thanks. For telling me, I mean." She sighed and rubbed her face with her hands. "It's late. You two should probably grab some sleep since wounded are coming."

"You should too." BJ stood up from his leaning spot and stretched.

But she shrugged, walking them to the door. "I think I might take a walk."

"You shouldn't go by yourself. No one should walk around at night by themselves," BJ argued. "Hawk can go with you. He's antsy already. I'll never get sleep if he's in his bunk. He'll toss and turn for hours."

Hawkeye, lit by the spotlight nearby, just threw his hands up in self defense. "Not a date! I promise! Unless, of course, you want it to be."

She shook her head, biting her tongue to try and suppress her own growing smirk. Hawkeye's infernal infectious smile both infuriated her and made her want to smile along. She turned to the other one. "BJ Hunnicutt, you are trying to set us up! Can I have Peg's address so I can write her about your matchmaking!"

This time it was BJ's turn to get defensive. "Hey, I just want some uninterrupted sack time. That means no Hawkeye Pierce."

"People might start talking if me in bed means uninterrupted sack time," Hawkeye bit back.

Nellie outright laughed. "Fine, fine. I'll let him play bodyguard. You get some good rest." She turned to Hawkeye. "You better behave or I'm going to write my brother about you."

"Now I am scared!"

"Just walk."


	15. F*O*U*R*T*E*E*N

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nellie just won't talk.

Hundreds of stars shined down on them from the clear sky. A few people still roamed to and from various tents. As Nellie took the lead strolling through the compound, she stayed quiet. Her legs knew where to take her while her mind strayed far away.

"You've been stressed all day."

Nellie jumped out of her skin. She tried to calm her rapid heartbeat back down. With a forced smile, she turned to him. "Don't worry about me. Seriously."

He shrugged and moved quickly forward to match her stride. "Two naps in one day? Missing a meal?"

"Hawkeye, what was the party really for?"

"We wanted to boost morale!" He straightened more at the use of his name. She didn't seem to use names often. When he saw the skeptical look she shot him, he relented. "Klinger was concerned about you. He said you woke him up to call home."

"I did."

They reached the bottom of the ramp to the chopper pad. Her breathing had finally slowed back to normal. With only a small pause, she started up.

"Look, I know you have a dim view of me-"

Nellie cut him off. "I don't." His statement made her halt. "I don't."

"You're not going to survive here long, not sane at least, if you don't talk."

"I talk!" Her objection came harsher and quicker than she'd intended. Taking a seat at the top step to the pad, she sighed.

The camp had settled down. She could see one of the sentries making his way past the Pre-Op entrance. In the light of the spotlights, his shadow stretched on in various directions as he walked. The world had quieted as well. She couldn't hear much other than their own breathing and the gentle hum of insects.

"You talk a lot but you don't say much," Hawkeye said.

She countered him quickly. "And why should you be the one I tell my problems to?"

"I'm probably not." Hawkeye sat down next to her on the step. His gaze stayed on the camp below as well. "Father Mulcahy is good at stuff like this."

Silence reigned. A gentle breeze cooled them down. The weather late at night was a pleasant change to the heat of the day. Finally, Nellie broke the silence.

"You know, I think this is the first time I've heard you go ten minutes without cracking a joke." Then she turned to him. "Why are you so concerned?"

The abruptness caught him off guard. "I'm a doctor."

"You're not a head shrink."

"I treated a woman surgeon poorly once. I don't want to make the same mistake," he admitted. "Besides, Beej and I have a bet going-" At her sharp glare, he cracked a smile. He held up his hands. "A joke! A joke. After all it had been ten minutes."

Nellie found herself smiling along with him. Turning back to the camp, she shook her head. "You are unbelievable."

"I try my best."

Silence fell around them again. Nellie found herself rubbing her hands together. The slow massage of her palms was a small attempt at calming down. A raucous laughter sounded from down the road. Rosie's, she guessed.

"So, how's your brother?"

"He's fine."

"Right."

A minute later, Nellie looked at him. Her fists balled, and she could feel her clenched jaw. Slowly she released her breath and tried to relax. "I've not even been here a week."

"Already feels like hell?"

She shrugged. "The food I can handle. The bugs and rats I can manage. I can even deal with the heat. But the disrespect…"

Hawkeye sat straighter. "The Lieutenant again?" A small rock found its way into his hand and he threw it down the stairs into camp.

"I just forgot. I forgot about all of it. I'd been working with the same people for so long, I'd mostly gotten used to it."

"Charles likes you."

She looked at him in confusion. "Okay?"

"Chaalls generally has a poor view of everyone. But then you said Johns Hopkins." He sat straight again, puffing out how chest. In his best Charles Emerson Winchester III impersonation, he added, "'She reminds me of my sister Honoria. Intelligent, driven. If such a prestigious University accepted her, we can only assume she is a more than capable surgeon."

Nellie found herself smiling at his antics. A few strands of her dark hair fell into her face and she just shook her head to get them away. Then she took a deep breath. "I don't talk to people really-"

"Trust me, we've noticed."

"We?"

Hawkeye just shrugged. "Oh you know, the entire medical staff, and Klinger."

"Glad my lack of trust is well known," she snapped.

"Oh come on. A joke!"

Nellie scoffed. "Your jokes are gonna get you into trouble."

"You should see the complaint box already."

Her laughter cut through the quiet. A small smirk crept onto her face as she turned back to Hawkeye. "So, have you decided how you're going to get me back?"

"You'll just have to wait to find out."

On the edge of hearing, noise of whirling chopper blades made its way towards them. Nellie and Hawkeye exchanged a quick glance. They stood up.

**"Attention all personnel! Incoming wounded! Choppers inbound and ambulances in the compound. Places everyone. It's gonna be a long night!"**

With her heart racing, Nellie hid behind a stack of crates. Hawkeye ducked down next to her. Behind the increasing pulsing of choppers coming closer, the roar of army jeeps filled the air. From the left, orderlies and nurses scrambled up the steps behind the laundry area. Shouts went up from all sides.

"You take left I'll take right!"

She nodded. As the choppers landed, they all braced themselves against the wind. The blades whipped dirt and grit up into the air. Breathing through the nose became the only option as her vision was tainted with sandy fog.

As soon as the chopper touched down, Hawkeye sped out hunched over. She followed. So loud were the blades pulsing above her that she almost couldn't think. But when Klinger, Kellye, and Goldman followed her, she forced herself to concentrate.

Goldman and Klinger wordlessly showed her how to take the chopper's stretcher cover off. Once that was done, she stood over the wounded man. The first thing she noticed as Goldman pointed his flashlight was the blood. His pressure bandage was soaked through on his left leg. Another on the left of his belly was bloodied around the edges. She checked under the bandages.

She thanked God she hadn't eaten dinner because she was sure she'd have lost it there. His leg, probably the tibia, had a compound fracture, with a good inch of white bone protruding out of the skin. She tightened the bandage. His stomach wound looked to be from shrapnel, and didn't seem nearly as bad.

"Right, let's go!"

Klinger and Goldman grabbed either end of the litter. With as much speed as they could muster, the group made its way to the jeeps. Hawkeye grabbed her arm and hoisted her up beside the litters in the Jeep.

"What's he got?"

"Compound fracture of the tibia, shrapnel in the abdomen. Leg looks bad. About an inch protrusion."

"Right. This one's a chest case." Hawkeye adjusted his squat in the Jeep and turned to the nurses near them. "Kellye, tell Charles what we've got. Bigelow!"

"Yes!"

"Get bottles of A negative and…" He quickly checked Nellie's patient's dog tags. "...B negative ready. They're going to need more than plasma."

The two nurses took off down the short road to the compound. Nellie watched them go. When they entered the compound after them, it was to the sight of two dozen litters lying on the ground, wounded men groaning in anguish. Nurses ran to and fro with flashlights for BJ, Charles, and the Colonel.

Hawkeye leapt off the jeep, and hurried to where Charles stood with a clipboard. She moved herself off as well, quickly as she could. To her right she saw Margaret. Nellie hurried over. Moans followed her every step.

"Calm down, we're going to help you," said Margaret.

She crouched next to the soldier, a young man with blonde hair caked in dirt, and brown eyes. He thrashed, trying to sit himself up. "Get away from me! I wan' a doctor not some stupid nurse!"

"Listen, corporal. This nurse is your best option right now," Margaret bit back. "Now, calm down and I can help you."

As Nellie heard his words, she paused. She knew the type. He wouldn't want a female doctor, and he'd be vocal about it. But she saw little choice, as BJ and Hawkeye had gone to scrub up, and Colonel Potter and Charles were on the other side of the litters.

"I'm a doctor," Nellie said with a smile. She knelt next to him. "What's your name, Corporal?"

"Corporal Henry Flemming." He glanced at her up and down. "You ain't a doctor. You're a woman. Now you trying to lie to me!"

Nellie just went to peak under his pressure bandage on her right thigh. She could see shrapnel, a lot of it. But most of it hadn't gone very deep.

"This woman is a doctor," Margaret said. "And a damn good one. So rest easy, Flemming."

Margaret and Nellie both moved away from him. The former went to another patient, and Nellie found Charles. "Corporal Flemming, thigh wound with shrapnel cluster. Probably a two."

"Right. We've only got two more out here. Go wash with Pierce and Hunnicutt."

Nellie nodded. Leaving the groaning outside, she ran to the scrub room. Nurses Shari and Davis were changing in the room when she hurried inside. Once she was into an undershirt and white scrub pants, she went to the basin.

While she scrubbed her arms and hands raw, BJ and Hawkeye traded quips. They had just finished. Now a nurse fastened their masks.

"So much for uninterrupted sleep," moaned BJ. "Next time, someone needs to let the North Koreans know we're on break."

"Yeah well now we're on a break from our break!"

They disappeared into the OR, leaving Nellie in the scrub room. The only sounds were muffled voices from the other room and the rushing stream of water from the faucet. Two minutes later she finished. Margaret, Charles, and Colonel Potter entered moments later and the quiet was broken.

Margaret tied Nellie's mask up over her white hat. With that, she ducked into the OR. The smell of rubbing alcohol hit her like a truck. Nellie paused briefly before hurrying over to a table. "Gloves!"

Nurse Davis hurried over and slipped a pair on her hands. They snapped into place. With the latex gloves to protect her hands and the patient, she nodded. Her breath hitched as a patient was brought to her. It was the young boy from the chopper.

"Ready doctor?"

Margaret stood across from her, and Nurse Shari was on instruments. As she looked in Margaret's eyes, she tried to force her stomach to calm down. "Let's go."


	16. F*I*F*T*E*E*N

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nellie regrets sitting down.

Five minutes. She had five minutes to rest, five minutes to recuperate. After five minutes, she'd have to head back inside, back into the endless assembly line of broken, bleeding bodies, a cog in a fragile machine of life and death.

Nellie fell back into the wooden seat of Pre Op. She took off her mask. The wood felt cool to the touch of her ungloved hands. Eyes closed, head back, she sat simply breathing.

Feeling in her feet had left after their tenth hour in surgery. It seemed that every time they got through the more simple cases, more extreme wounded arrived by chopper or ambulance. By the time daylight had lifted, Post Op was two-thirds full, and the spirit of the medical staff was two thirds empty.

The bench shifted. Nellie didn't check who had sat down. Her focus remained on staying awake, though her eyes insisted on staying shut.

"How you holding up? Jumpin' jackrabbits, we haven't had this many wounded at a time in weeks."

Her eyes opened slowly at Colonel Potter's statement. She turned towards him. "I'm fine, sir."

The tiny, exhausted smile that crept onto his face told her just what he thought of her assertion. "We're all exhausted. I'm as tired as the wings of a bird. But, only a few more to go I hope."

"Yes, sir."

"You're from Baltimore, right? I had a good friend from there. He loved it."

Nellie smiled. Despite the pain and numbness, she found herself facing the Colonel again. "I've lived in Baltimore since med school, but I actually grew up in New York City."

"From one big city to another. I never could stand the urban districts. Too loud and busy for my tastes." He paused, his small smile growing. "Mildred and I are working on paying off the mortgage on a little house in Missouri. When this war is all over… I think I'll retire there for good. What about you? Any plans to get married?"

Nellie smirked and shook her head. She pulled herself away from the wall and yawned. Then she answered him. "Maybe if the right man comes around."

"Don't rush it. My own daughter only got married about a half a decade ago."

"What's her name?"

"Evelyn. Pride of my life, alongside my son, James."

Nellie found herself smiling along. She fastened her surgical mask back over her mouth and stood up. She nearly shouted. Suddenly sitting down didn't seem like it'd been the best plan; her feet, once numb, had now been given enough rest to feel pain again.

"Feeling it again?"

She just grimaced and straightened herself up. With a forced smile, she shrugged and headed back inside. As she pushed on the door and went inside the distinctive stench of rubbing alcohol and blood wafted over to her. The stench, along with the clinking of metal instruments and the orders being spoken by the surgeons made her stop.

BJ and Hawkeye looked about ready to fall over in exhaustion. While Charles seemed better at hiding it, Nellie figured he was just as tired. As she walked over to her table and called for gloves, a yawn escaped her yet again.

"How long have we been at this?" BJ asked. While his patient was carted away, he let his head fall back to stretch his neck.

Hawkeye sighed, shrugging his shoulders. As he stood over his patient, he did his best to stretch. "Two years."

"Not the war. This session."

"An extra-ordinarily long time," Charles added.

Nellie glanced at the clock. "Seventeen hours." Her own voice sounded out of place in the OR for a moment, almost as if she didn't belong. Thoughts of her doubts from the day before crept back in. She forced herself not to think.

Moments later, Klinger came bursting in. Despite his mask, she could tell he was smiling. "Good news. We're fresh out of wounded. Colonel Potter is dealing with the last superficial case as we speak."

A wearied cheer went up from orderlies, nurses, and surgeons alike. Nellie wandered over to Hawkeye's table to see if he needed help, but as she did so, he asked the nurse to close. When Charles insisted he was close to finishing already, she headed straight for the changing room.

Her feet had yet to go numb again, and pain shot all the way up her legs. Nellie hadn't known this level of exhaustion was possible; even in residency, she hadn't worked more than ten hour shifts. Seventeen hours? Unheard of.

As she stripped off the bloodied surgical garments, her eyelids began to droop. The sooner she could get them off, the sooner she could sleep. She'd operated on thirty three patients, some severely injured, others with only superficial wounds. Her limbs ached. Her fingers, stiff from clutching metal instruments, barely worked to button her pants on. Her bed called to her.

Nellie stumbled out of the hospital. Only once she stepped outside did she realize how hard it had started raining. She stopped in the doorway briefly. Taking a deep breath, she then stepped forward, and relished the feel of the cool rain on her achy skin. The compound stayed quiet apart from the rain, almost eerily so. Like zombies, she and the rest of her colleagues moved towards their tents.

Only after a half dozen hours of sleep did Nellie find the ability to communicate with the world again. In an effort to add some happiness to her day, Nellie put Jack's Hawaiian shirt on over a tank top and let it hang loose. The rain had let up when she walked outside. Shari and Peggy sat on lawn chairs, using sticks to play tic-tac-toe in the muddy ground. Besides them, only a few orderlies meandered about.

Just as she stepped out of her tent, she caught sight of Klinger leaving his office. The mailbag on his shoulder made her smile, though she knew nothing would be for her yet. The postal service couldn't work that fast. Still, mail would brighten up everyone's spirits.

"Bigelow! Saba!"

Nellie made her way towards them. The smiles on their faces as Klinger handed out his letters made Nellie smile ever so slightly.

"Sorry, Major. Nothing for you."

"I didn't expect it," she assured him. "Much mail today?"

Klinger shook his head. Lifting up the mail bag, he gave it a little shake. "Not too much. Mostly stuff that got delayed from the shipment on Tuesday."

"That's good."

"If you'll excuse me! Neither rain, nor sleet, nor wounded shall keep me from my appointed rounds!"

Nellie watched him with a smile as he moved towards the Orderlies' tents. Nothing seemed to phase him. Even a seventeen hour OR session didn't dull his spirits. She envied him.

"My parents sold their house!" Peggy sat up straighter in her chair, glancing over her letter again. "They're moving to Upstate New York."

"Is that good?" said Shari.

"Beats me."

Nellie laughed. "I'm sure they wouldn't be moving unless they wanted to. And that's a pretty area."

"It says here that Mom wants to open a bed and breakfast." Peggy laughed. "I can believe that, but I don't know how that's going to go."

"How long till dinner?"

Shari glanced at her watch. "About half an hour. I saw Pernelli head into the kitchen twenty minutes ago."

"Pernelli. He's the cook right?"

"Hah, yeah. Guess you haven't met him yet?" Bigelow said. "Sergeant Salvatore Pernelli. In a perpetual sour mood, takes no criticism from anyone. I admire his tenacity."

Suddenly, the soft lilting of a classical concerto made its way to them from the Swamp nearby. Bigelow rolled her eyes, but Shari had to hide a smile. Moments later, a shout went up.

"Charles!"

Nellie looked over in time to see a pillow go flying across the Swamp and hit Charles in the face. No change to the music occurred.

"Charles turn that off! Peg could hear that all the way in San Francisco!"

"Never. You animals may be able to regain your strength by simply sleeping but a Winchester needs more artistic pursuits to achieve this. I shall not turn it off."

"This isn't art it's garbage!"

"Garbage! How dare you call Rachmaninoff garbage."

Nellie laughed to herself and wandered over. She stood against the mesh on Hawkeye's side. Leaning over she spoke through it. "Well, Major, you seem to have struck a nerve with these two."

"What time is it?" BJ asked her.

"About four-thirty."

With a groan, BJ sat up in bed and pulled his fatigue vest over his undershirt. He tossed a pillow at Hawkeye. "Come on. Leave Chuck to his music. It's almost dinner anyways."

Charles visibly winced at the nickname of Chuck. But Hawkeye relented and slipped on his burgundy bathrobe. As they pushed open the door to the Swamp, Nellie met them.

"You two look terrible."

BJ gave a tiny snort. He just shook his head and wandered towards the Mess Tent. Both Nellie and Hawkeye joined him.

"I slept for six hours and my feet are still in pain," Hawkeye muttered.

"I could do with another six."

Nellie huffed in agreement. With her hands in her pockets, she strolled next to Hawkeye on his right. Because of their overwhelming exhaustion, none of them spoke. The silence from Hawkeye did surprise her.

They slipped into a table in the Mess Tent. The food had yet to arrive, and a few small groups of orderlies and nurses stood or sat awaiting it. Focusing on her breathing, Nellie sat quietly. Breathe in, hold for three, breathe out, hold for three. BJ and Hawkeye exchanged a few comments, but she stayed silent.

"You three look about as enthusiastic as I feel."

Nellie glanced up at the Colonel's comment. His face looked drawn, and Klinger stood next to him looking about as unhappy as him. She glanced between Hawkeye and BJ.

"What now?" Hawkeye asked.

"Let me guess. More wounded?"

Colonel Potter nodded at BJ. He sighed. "We just got the call. We're to expect more in the next thirty-six hours."

"Damnit!" Hawkeye slammed the table. Running a hand through his hair and rubbing his forehead, he growled under his breath.

"Can't they ever take a break?"

"No Beej, why would they ever do that."

Potter sighed. "What this means is rest is more important than ever. I don't want my best surgeons wasting their time gettin' drunker than a skunk."

BJ smirked. "Us? Drink?"

"Only to excess."

With a half smirk, Colonel Potter just nodded. He turned away to get some of the newly arrived food, leaving Klinger to scoot in next to Nellie and across from BJ. "Boy, sometimes I wonder how they don't run out of bullets!"

"They never do." Nellie didn't make eye contact with any of them. Her thoughts took her miles away, years away. "This is just the latest war to end all wars."

Hawkeye watched her for a moment before letting out a small, frustrated huff. "Well. The smorgasbord awaits us."

As Colonel Potter sat down with food, the others stood away to get their own. Nellie found the less than spectacular food to be a good distraction from her thoughts that drifted towards home. At least when she had to stuff soggy peas down her throat, worries over the war and her place in it fell to the back.


	17. S*I*X*T*E*E*N

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which she loses one.

When dinner ended, Nellie retreated back to her tent. The half empty bottle of scotch she'd brought from Tokyo sat in the corner near her notebook, and her shot glasses stood nearby. She stared at the drink for a moment. Her mouth watered. Reaching for the glass, she hesitated at the last second. Instead she grabbed her notebook and pencil.

There weren't many places to sit in the 4077th other than the Mess Tent and Officer's Club. But she didn't want to sit alone for the night. Or rather, she did, but she knew it wasn't good for her. She left her tent.

Nellie stopped suddenly. While her tent door closed behind her, she looked up. A thousand colors splashed across the sky. In the darkest recesses, a few of the brightest stars peaked through the fabric of evening. It took her breath away. It made her think; how could such beauty exist in such horror?

With a small smile, Nellie pulled herself away from the miraculous sunset. She made her way across the compound leisurely. The door to the Officer's Club flew open as she got close, and three orderlies stumbled out laughing and clinking beers. She stood aside to let them pass.

The offbeat lilting of Father Mulcahy's piano playing clearly sounded over the mostly subdued atmosphere of the club. As Igor cleaned glasses behind the bar, a handful of orderlies sat in the corner near the door chatting. She asked for a beer from him at the bar before she took her own seat in the opposite corner. From this back corner should could see everything.

Klinger leaned against the piano smoking a cigar. He wore the tan short sleeve undershirt of the fatigues, having took off his Mudhens jersey in the heat of the evening Officer's Club. She didn't blame him. Even her own Hawaiian shirt nearly felt too warm over her tank top. Between puffs of his cigar, Klinger chatted with Padre.

The knowledge of impending wounded had everyone quiet. She could hear it in the voices of the men around her: short sentences, tense tones, laughter that seemed to end a bit too quickly. Igor looked preoccupied with shining the shot glasses. They sparkled in the warm light.

Nellie opened her journal. She passed the flying elephants and the deer and the glass slippers. The first clean page she reached had a slight wrinkle in it, and the edges had coffee stains. No matter. The coffee stains became part of the scene of the Officer's Club as she sketched the world around her.

Between the seemingly endless loop of Mulcahy's piano and the hum of the enlisted men, Nellie fell into her own rhythm. She forgot about the wounded, she almost forgot about the war. For a time, only she, her pencil, and the club existed. It went on for hours. Enlisted men and nurses came and went, Klinger and Mulchahy eventually stopped their conversing. Her page transformed.

At three in the morning, she got the feeling Igor wanted to close up. Her third beer bottle sat nearly empty, but her fingers barely tingled. One last gulp, and she left the quiet Officer's Club, the tired bartender, and the tranquil atmosphere. When she flipped on the light in her tent, it nearly blinded her. The walk across the compound hadn't done her eyes any favors.

A distant but rapidly approaching whir came into earshot. Her journal tumbled to the floor. Nellie clenched her fist.

**"Sorry, folks. But the next wave is here. Report to the OR on the double! First and second surgical teams to the chopper pad. Places everyone!"**

Nellie threw off her Hawaiian shirt and ran back outside in just her undershirt. The flash of headlights immediately blinded her. Her hands flew into her face instinctively. But the clamor of the wounded and the medical staff jolted her back into the present. Charles and the Colonel unloaded the first ambulance, and as a second pulled up, she forced herself into action.

Her boots slammed against the steps into the ambulance. As she bounded up, she grabbed a flashlight from a nurse and shined it down the bus. All sixteen metal cots were full. Groans of pain bombarded her ears as she made her way down the bus. The first two men she looked at were hurt only moderately bad. They could wait. As Nellie continued to check wounds and their reports, she forced herself to breathe. Overall, no immediately life threatening wounds now that they'd been stabilized.

"Major! They need you to scrub up!" Goldman shouted.

She turned down towards the end of the bus where he stood and shielded her eyes from his flashlight. He quickly apologized and moved away. Nellie wasted no time. Taking the steps down in two bounds, she moved quickly to Pre Op and the scrub rooms.

"Here." She handed another orderly her flashlight. But as she hurried the last bit to the doors, Kellye called to her.

"Major! We need your help!"

Her voice sounded frantic. Nellie lost no time and veered her way. The patient was convulsing. "Shit," she muttered. Briefly she glanced at his injuries. Head trauma, severe stomach laceration, bindings on his left leg. She grabbed some nearby pressure bandages and pushed down hard on his stomach wound. But it was no use. He fell still moments later.

She took her bloodied hands away from his body. For what seemed like hours, but lasted only seconds, Nellie just stared at his limp form. When she forced herself to search for a pulse, she felt herself gag. But she couldn't let herself be sick. There would be time for that later. "Time of death, 0321 Hours." Nellie went to pull away, but her hand trailed across his metal dog tags.

_Stiles, Bryan H_

_32227580_

_A B Negative_

_Catholic_

Nellie froze. Her hand hovered over his tags. Finally Kellye interrupted her thoughts. "Major they need you inside."

"Right. Right sorry." She shook her head and stood away. Blood had gotten under her nails and ran through all the cracks in the dry skin of her palms. Even as she rubbed it on her shirt, it dried.

Before she could step into the scrub room, she found herself stopping. Her breath hitched and she covered her mouth as a sob tried to escape. Nellie hid her face, and scooted out of the light. She had to stop. She had to get herself under control.

When she removed her hand from her face, she remembered the blood. Red, oozing, but brown in the dark. It smelled like iron. Nellie steadied herself against the side of the building. Breathe in, hold for three, breathe out, hold for three. She bit her tongue. She bit it so hard to stop the nausea that soon her mouth tasted of iron too.

"Get ahold of yourself!" Nellie hissed through gritted teeth, anger and shock fueling her. Her breaths came quick, heaving. She stopped, holding the air in. After fifteen seconds, she released it. Her head spun.

When she stepped inside, most of the nurses had started changing. She got to work. Fatigues off, whites on. Nellie hurried to get her mask over her face. Maybe it would hide the emotions. With the mask, hat, and pants on, she started scrubbing.

The blood fell away from her hands. The brown turned red and the red turned pink to match her raw skin. The bubbles lathered. She scrubbed under her nails and up to her elbows. By the time she finished, Colonel Potter took up her side. She said nothing.

Margaret slipped on her top scrubs. Nellie didn't thank her. Instead, she slipped into the OR without a sound. Peggy snapped her gloves on, letting the latex hit her raw skin. Hawkeye and BJ had already started on patients, and based on the lack of witty banter, they faced their own hardships.

Her patient arrived. Klinger and Goldman set the litter down on her table. Nurse Baker took up anesthesia. With a last, ragged deep breath, Nellie stared down at the man's face.

To call him a man was a gross overstatement. He couldn't have been over eighteen; almost no facial hair to speak of, round cheeks blushing from the medications. The red, curly locks on his head had been stained a further shade of crimson. Nellie tore herself away and took a scalpel from Gwen, her assisting nurse. She let work consume her.

Twelve hours later, her heart stopped pounding. The last patient went to Hawkeye. Her eyes drooped. Sunlight blazed into the OR through the windows. Finally, she fled.

When she got back to her tent, stripped of her stained white scrubs, she grabbed the scotch. Her tired feet stomped right over her fallen journal. It lay forgotten.

Nellie threw her head back and downed a mouthful of liquor. It burned her throat. Setting the bottle back down on her desk, Nellie ripped off her bloody tank top and pulled on Jack's shirt. She stared at herself in the mirror. One button at a time, she did enough of them to be considered presentable. She freed her hair, letting it lay naturally. Nellie took another drink, filling her glass this time first.

The second one burned even more. She picked up her picture of Molly, Jack, and herself. Staring, Nellie couldn't stop thinking. And she hated thinking at times like these. Too many memories of Jack's sickness, too many hours spent wondering if he'd survive being left alone.

Nellie fell back to sit on her bed. After a third drink, she started to feel it. Tingling beneath her skin, warmth in her hands and face. It took significant effort to convince herself to get up fifteen minutes later when a knock sounded on her door.


	18. S*E*V*E*N*T*E*E*N

It surprised her very little that BJ and Hawkeye stood outside her tent. As she forced herself to straighten up, her head spun a little and she found it difficult to fully focus. “Can I help you?” she managed to sputter out.

 

They barely flinched at her snap. Hawkeye spoke up first, glancing beyond her and then back. “We’re heading over to Rosie’s. Coming?”

 

“I’m good here.”

 

BJ’s mouth inched up in a small smile. With a quick gesture to the desk just visible beyond her, he shrugged. “You know, Rosie’s is a long walk. Could we grab a drink here?”

 

“What happened to people talking if you come in?”

 

“What happened to you not caring,” Hawkeye countered back. His smirk grew as she just stared at him, adjusting her stance ever so slightly. “Come on, you worried about their gossip?”

 

Nellie snorted. “I live for the gossip.” Nellie took a seat on her bed near the door, folding her legs under her. The sudden movement made her wobble ever so slightly. She caught herself. “One of you pour though. I’m not playing host.”

 

With a light laugh, BJ nodded and grabbed the scotch bottle. But as he went to pick up one of the glasses, Nellie’s breath hitched. She scrambled off the bed and grabbed it. “Actually, give me that.” Her hand shook involuntarily as BJ poured the scotch. 

 

“Hawk?”

 

“Why are you even asking? Give me the good stuff!”

 

With Nellie resettled on her bed, and Hawkeye taking a spot at the other end, she downed half the glass. Her eyes closed as the tangy liquid coated her mouth and throat. It spread like fire. 

 

“Good?”

 

She cleared her throat. “Yeah.” Nellie’s fingers trailed over the top and engraved edges of her shot glass. Her mind wandered away, way back to Baltimore, to the brother she understood now better than she ever thought would be possible. Then she glanced back to the others. “You going to drink those or stare at them?”

 

Hawkeye laughed and downed his own in one drink. BJ followed but spent more time with his own, not seeing a reason to be rid of it quickly. “You were quiet in the OR today,” he ventured.

 

Her hand stopped shaking as she grabbed the glass tight. “I thought you two were a little loud.”

 

“That’s our job,” Hawkeye joked. “Thirty percent to stitch back together a bunch of kids, forty percent to cause trouble.”

 

“You left out ten percent.”

 

BJ answered for him. “Ten percent to complain about it the whole time!”

 

“Or to drink.”

 

A small smile crept onto her face. She held out her glass and BJ filled it part of the way. “That's it?”

 

He shrugged. But Hawkeye jumped in. “Trust me, having more will mean pain tomorrow.”

 

“He knows what he’s talking about. And more wounded should be on the way in the next twenty four hours,” BJ added.

 

She felt her throat tighten. Nellie couldn’t lift the shot glass to her lips. The amber liquid just sat there, shaking ever so slightly in her glass.

 

“It’s not easy losing one.”

 

Nellie glanced up at BJ. She had so much she wanted to explain, so much to say. But she couldn’t. The words refused to form. She could see the boy’s dog tags in her mind, and the words there morphed into Jack’s own. He’d survived the war, but not by much. Tears threatened to spill over. She couldn’t allow that. With a deep breath, she forced down the rest of the scotch.

 

Hawkeye hesitated. After a moment, he asked, “How many did you save today?”

 

When she scoffed, they both looked at her in surprise. But she just shook her head, shaking in anger. “Saved? I saved their lives for now, but the battle’s only half done! What happens to them when they go back home? What happens to their families, to themselves? It doesn’t end here!”

 

“Speaking from experience?” BJ ventured.

 

“Yes, actually, I am!” But she stopped herself from going further. “I already regret saying anything. I haven’t had enough alcohol to make me say more.” The last little bit of alcohol dripped from the upturned glass into her mouth.

 

Hawkeye laughed. “Have you had any food since the shift ended? Cause I’m starving.”

 

“Hungry enough to eat food from the Mess Tent?” asked BJ.

 

“That comment just ruined my appetite.”

 

Nellie's frown broke. She looked over at Hawkeye and just shook her head. Putting her glass at her side table, she forced herself to stand with a slight wobble.

 

BJ opened the door. "I wish I could say I was excited." 

 

As they walked out, Nellie blinked back from the sunlight. Her window covers had been down. But now the late afternoon sun beat down on them harshly. BJ and Hawkeye flanked her. Her heart constricted thinking about that; they really were quite kind. She wondered if Jack had helped anyone like they tried with everyone in the 4077th.

 

To her surprise, the Mess Tent had already filled when they got there. BJ guided the way through the mass of bodies over to a table with Father Mulcahy, Colonel Potter, and Margaret. "Mind if we join," he said, but didn't hesitate.

 

"Nellie is always good company," Margaret replied. She winked at her. "These two, on the other hand."

 

She cracked a smile, but before she could respond, Hawkeye interrupted. He gestured to the food. "I'm going to get her food. I can be a gentleman when I want to!"

 

"That'll be a first." But Margaret just shook her head and chewed at her food. 

 

Nellie laughed. "If Hawkeye wants to do my work for me, I'm not going to say no."

 

The whole table broke into chuckles. Hawkeye disappeared, consumed by the line. Nellie's attention turned to the others.

 

"You know what I could really go for right now?" said BJ. He rubbed his hands together thoughtfully. "A big, greasy slice of real pepperoni pizza."

 

The entire table moaned as one. Colonel Potter shook his head. "Good grief, Hunnicutt, why would you say that!"

 

"I could eat a whole pizza," Nellie added.

 

"Sorry! I'm sorry! But I can just smell it."

 

Margaret scooped up a few noodles on her fork. With a look of disdain, she put them back down. "Here. You eat this." She pushed her tray in front of BJ.

 

"Here, one tray of Pernelli's finest courtesy of Hawkeye Pierce."

 

As he slid in next to Nellie, she nodded her thanks. Then she smirked. "Next time, I expect pizza."

 

While the others laughed, Hawkeye just looked around in confusion. But BJ continued. "Hey Hawk, I bet if you get her a pizza, she may let you sit next to her at the next movie."

 

Nellie grinned. She leaned closer to Hawkeye and dropped her voice to a whisper. "You get me a pizza, you get yourself a date with me."

 

"Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy." Hawkeye's grin spread across his face, even as he turned away.

 

"Don't forget about the rest of us, Hawkeye," Father Mulcahy quickly added. He smiled.

 

"O'Hara!"

 

Nellie turned to see Klinger carrying a handful of letters. She out down her fork. Taking the letter he handed over, she smiled to find it was from Jack.

 

"Pierce! Potter!"

 

"Gimme that." Hawkeye grabbed his with unbridled enthusiasm.

 

"Don't hurt him," Nellie said with a laugh.

 

"Glad to know somebody cares."

 

Mulcahy shook his head. "We all do. Don't let them pretend otherwise."

 

"You're like our own, loveable golden retriever."

 

"Hawkeye!" Though she couldn't repress her own laugh at the image, she still scolded him.

 

BJ didn't let up either. "Is he a golden retriever though?"

 

Margaret just shrugged. "Poodle?"

 

"Hot dog?"

 

"Okay, okay, you three simmer down." Potter shook his head. "Klinger, go finish the mail."

 

He left with a flourish. As they finished dinner, talk turned to the next movie night. Father Mulcahy didn't have any idea of the title of the next one. Secretly, Nellie hoped for a Disney Pictures film. As the conversation devolved, she turned to her letter.

 

_ "Dear Nellie…" _

 

Jack's letter spoke of various matters of back home. His state department job kept him relatively busy, but he told her about her John's Hopkins colleagues too. Janet, the supervising nurse, sent her regards. Robert from the night shift wanted to know how Tokyo was. Even Deborah, the older woman who ran the front desk, asked Jack to send her own greetings.

 

_ "Marjorie Hutton's Maltese had puppies. She wants me to take one. Nothing against those things, but they're so white and fluffy and small. Not my idea of a dog for me," _ he wrote. _ "But anyways, she's convinced I need one since you left. Doesn't want me to get lonely. I appreciate her concern but I'm fine." _

 

"Good letter?" BJ asked, interrupting her. Between bites, he tried to glimpse the envelope across the table.

 

Nellie shrugged. With a nod, she just tucked it back away to finish later. "From Jack. That must be from when I was in Tokyo."

 

"Least we know your mail will find us now," said Potter.

 

Hawkeye snorted. "For once the Army didn't foul up."

 

"I'll see you guys later. Enjoy the food." Nellie carried her tray out to the garbage and dumped what was left. Feeling a bit better, she pulled out her letter and restarted. As her door closed behind her, she rolled up the windows and plopped on her bed.

 

_ "You know Cindy downstairs? She asked me to tell you that she's going to college for pre med. You know how much her parents are against it, but she saved enough money from housework and borrowed the rest from her uncle." _

 

Her smile grew with each word she read. The image of Jack with a Maltese nearly had her in stitches. Trust Marjorie to offer, she always tried to get a little too close with Jack for her liking. A knock interrupted her twenty minutes later as she began her reply. Margaret stood at her door.

 

"Some of the nurses are organizing a poker game at Rosie's. You want to join us?" 

 

"Oh, sure!"

 

"Bigelow's getting everyone together."

 

Nellie grabbed her wallet. Joining Margaret outside, they made their way down the road towards the Korean bar. As they approached, Rosie's voice could be heard clearly yelling at some poor fool.

 

"I'm done with him! Get him out!"

 

When the two majors reached the bar, they found a girl herding Irving the dog out to the street. She said something to them in Korean before ducking back inside.

 

"One of these days, Irving is going to get himself hurt," Margaret muttered. She pushed aside the red door curtains went inside. 

 

For a Friday night, Rosie's looked surprisingly empty. A few corpsmen sat at the bar and a well dressed Korean woman swayed to a jukebox, but not much else was happening.

 

Rosie nodded to them. "Majors, nice to see some responsible faces around here! Your nurses are setting up in the side room." As she cleaned glasses, Rosie gestured to a doorway.

 

Nellie followed Margaret. When they rounded the doorway, they found Gwen Adair, Peggy Bigelow, Shelley Lacey, and Jan Baker pulling a few tables together. A deck of cards sat off to the side. 

 

"Hey! They're here!" Peggy grinned as they came in. "Pull up chairs. We can get started."

 

"I should warn you all, I got some pretty good hands last week," Nellie joked. She took a seat next to Shelley and Margaret. 

 

Margarate scoffed. "You only came up big in the last round. You got lucky. Deal." She handed the cards to Nellie.

 

As they all put in a dollar to ante, Nellie shuffled. The edges of her mouth tugged up into a smirk as she eyed her competition. Peggy chewed on a pretzel, but Nellie had learned enough about the spunky nurse in a week's time not to underestimate her. On the other hand, Gwen and Jan tended to stay on the quiet side. Dangerous, potentially. Shelley seemed more like Peggy Bigelow than the other two, outspoken, but Nellie didn't know her well enough to make a full judgement call.

 

"Ready?" 

 

"Just deal."

 

Nellie laughed at Margaret but did as she was told. "Five card draw. Let's make it interesting... Deuces are wild." With each snap of her wrist, another card flew across the wooden tables. Finally, all six women had their hands full. "Margaret?"

 

"One dollar."

 

By the time the bets reached Nellie, she had to put in five dollars. Everyone matched, and she turned back to Margaret.

 

"Three."

 

Nellie slid three cards to her. "Gwen?"

 

"Two."

 

Jan took three, Peggy took two, and Shelley took one. Nellie looked at her own hand again and grimaced inwardly. She had a pair of threes, a jack, a ten, and a seven. Not much to speak of except the pair. "Dealer takes three."

 

After discarding her unimportant cards, she drew three more. A queen, another seven, and an ace. Nellie quickly decided not to risk anything further.

 

"Margaret, your bet."

 

"Two." With a quick flash of her hand, she laid two bills on the pile in the center.

 

Gwen quickly matched her bet and raised one. Jan kept going but didn't raise. When it came to Peggy, though, she smiled and upped it three.

 

"I don't trust you." Shelley furrowed her brow and glanced between her own cards and Peggy next to her. She carefully ran her fingers through them. "Fine. I'll meet your raises, and raise you two."

 

Nellie shook her head. "I am definitely out."

 

"How much is it to me?" Margaret asked. 

 

"Six more to stay in."

 

Margaret huffed. But she didn't back down. Moments later, six more bills joined the center. In the end, Jan also folded, leaving Peggy, Shelley, Margaret, and Gwen in the running.

 

"Call," Margaret ordered.

 

As the four women revealed their cards, Shelley grinned and whooped for joy. "Sixty dive dollars to me, please and thank you." She grabbed the pot with both arms and pulled it close.

 

"How did you end up with a straight!" Peggy groaned as she sat back in her chair. "I need another drink before I keep playing."

 

Nellie chuckled. "I agree. What do you ladies want?"

 

Orders for three beers, two scotches, and a glass of wine were called out. She ducked into the main room and walked to the bar.

 

"Whatdya want?" Rosie asked. When Nellie gave the order, she nodded. "Give me a minute."

 

She stood against the bar and faced the red curtained doorway. Korean music filled the room from the jukebox and made for a pleasant atmosphere, if anywhere in a warzone could be referred to as pleasant. It was almost peaceful.

 

And then Hawkeye and BJ walked in. Loud as ever, they were arguing over some indeterminate small thing. Before long, they caught sight of Nellie and headed over.

 

Hawkeye slid next to her. "Looking for company?"

 

"No, actually. I have company already."

 

"Who did what I could not?"

 

Nellie just shook her head. With a quick smile, she gestured to the side room. As Rosie placed the six drinks on the counter and she paid up, Nellie turned to the two men. "Here. Carry something."

 

Hawkeye and BJ both ended up staying around for hours. They watched the women play poker with enthusiasm, and played the part of drink fetchers admirably. In the end, Shelley came out with the most money, but all of them had done moderately well to not lose too terribly much.

 

At 0200 hours, Klinger wandered in with a yawn to let them know the Colonel wanted everyone back to camp. Apparently wounded would be arriving again sometime before daybreak. Grudgingly, they all headed back.

 

Nellie lingered by the bar in Rosie's. She ran her hand along the wooden top. Cracks and holes marred the surface. Stains from alcohol and maybe even blood only made it look worse. Gone was her good mood of only an hour ago, replaced by a rare feeling of utter dread.

 

"You coming?"

 

She looked up to see Hawkeye standing inside the door. The others had all left. With his hunched shoulders and hands in his pockets, she didn't think he was in a much better mood than she. "Yes. Sorry."

 

"Henry, our old CO, he told me something once. One of his few moments when he was sober. He told me, there are certain rules about war. One is that young men die, and another is that doctors can't change that."

 

Nellie looked up at him as they crossed the road in the dark. He didn't make eye contact. Instead he looked ahead, miles and miles away. She didn't have answer to his statement. But then, neither did he.


	19. E*I*G*H*T*E*E*N

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the pranks escalate.

Even her eyes stung as she wandered into the women's changing area. They'd been in OR since four, almost ten hours. Nellie plopped herself down onto the bench and rubbed her face. Bending her fingers stung.

 

Most of the nurses grabbed their clothes and left. She didn't spare them a second glance. Only as Margaret finally joined her did she glance up. "Thanks for the help on that first patient."

 

Margaret shrugged. She flashed a small smile. Off went the white clothes into the laundry bin. "You did good work all day. You're faster than the men, you know."

 

"Yeah." She cracked a smile and laid her own head against the wooden wall. "Yeah but they still take most of the bad cases."

 

"Give it time. They're just letting you ease in."

 

"It's been a hell of a first week."

 

Margaret snorted. "No kidding." She slipped her fatigues on.

 

A quick shout from the other side of the curtains distracted them, but they couldn't tell what was being said. The noise of sterilizing instruments drowned the men out. Nellie sat herself straighter. Now that her fingers didn't hurt as much, she began to disrobe.

 

Margaret shrieked. As Nellie looked over quickly, the woman stomped away towards the others. Nellie hurriedly put on her fatigues and followed.

 

When she peeked around Margaret into the men's changing space, she found Charles, BJ, and Hawkeye all cackling. The latter two huddled together, chewing on brownies through their tears of joy.

 

"A Houlihan never forgets!" The curtains slammed closed at Margaret's fury. She spun around.

 

"What?"

 

"Those weasels put dead minnows in my pockets!" 

 

Nellie's lip curled as Margaret took them out. Their beady black eyes and shiny, silver scales flashed in the lights. "That's disgusting." Suddenly, she paused. Carefully she felt her own pockets through the outside.

 

"Anything?"

 

Nellie shook her head. "Nothing."

 

"Watch out. They're coming for you too." Margaret threw the minnows to the left of the door as they walked into the sun. Then she looked at Nellie. "After all, you started this."

 

"It feels like ages ago."

 

Nellie glanced at her watch as Margaret continued on. About two o'clock. Her stomach roiled in empty hunger, and a dull ache had settled in the back of her head. The bright sun didn’t help. Torn between her bed and lunch, she paused in the middle of the compound.

 

Stifled laughter sounded from her right. Nellie glanced over and saw a group of nurses hiding their smiles. She glanced left. Colonel Potter strode across the compound. Clipped to his belt with a clamp, a fox tail dangled unceremoniously. Suddenly Nellie found herself hiding her own grin. “Uh, sir.” She jogged to catch up with him. “Sir you’ve been pranked.”

 

“What in the name of Doris Day do you mean?”

 

“It seems you’ve grown a tail.”

 

Colonel Potter didn’t say anything. After staring at her for a moment, he peered over his shoulder as best he could. He grabbed the clamp and pulled it off. “Those jokers…” Then he narrowed his eyes. 

 

“Don’t look at me, sir!” But then she choked out a laugh. “I mean, it’s a nice tail.”

 

He went to respond when the unmistakable noise of the denizens of the Swamp floated their way. Charles strode quietly but his smirk never faded. The laughter and chatting of BJ and Hawkeye abruptly ended as they saw the Colonel holding the tail.

 

“Pierce!”

 

“Yes Colonel?”

 

“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.”

 

Nellie chuckled, walking with Colonel Potter over to the other three surgeons. She just shook her head. “I don’t know…”

 

“Hey!”

 

“My persona is truly hallowed indeed. Horse hockey.” The Colonel stopped in front of them and shook his head. As he went to hand the clamp and tail back to Hawkeye, the man flinched and ducked out of the way.

 

“Calm yourself, Pierce,” Charles said. “You’re a might jumpy aren’t you.”

 

Hawkeye just stuck another brownie in his mouth. BJ took the tail from Potter for him. Together, they walked to the tent and Hawkeye wiggled his fingers in a wave. 

 

As they wandered off, Nellie just looked around the camp. The Colonel and BJ went towards the Mess Hall while Hawkeye took the brownies and followed Charles to the Swamp. To the left, she saw Kellye, Shelley, and Shari going to the nurses' tents. Their feet dragged in the dirt.

 

Once more, Nellie was left to choose. Sleep, or food. While the late March sunlight beat down on her, she sighed. Finally, her bed won out. 

 

By the time she woke up, the moon and stars had replaced the sun. Music and light floated from the Officers' Club. A small light also shined in the Swamp. Nellie headed that way.

 

She let her button down fall from her arms. The gentle breeze caressed her.. Soft, refreshing. It was a welcome change to the heat from the day. When she got closer to the Swamp, she found Hawkeye writing a letter in his cot.

 

"Hey."

 

He looked up at her through the bug netting of the tent. With a smirk, he gestured for her to come in. "We shouldn't disappoint the rumor mill."

 

"That would be a shame." Nellie cracked a smile. With a small shake of her head, she pulled open the door. Glancing around, she paused. "Would BJ care-"

 

"He's not Charles."

 

"At least Charles is clean. You two are…"

 

"I don't have to take this!" 

 

"...homey?" In the end, Nellie sat down in the chair next to Hawkeye's cot. She folded her button down on her lap absentmindedly. Curiosity overtook her. "What are you writing?"

 

"A love poem, to the only woman in camp who doesn't love me back." He stared at her for a second before laughing. "I'm writing my Dad back."

 

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling. "What's it say?" Then she paused. "Sorry, you don't need to tell me."

 

"He wrote me about home," Hawkeye said. Putting his letter and pencil down, he leaned behind his cot and pulled out an envelope. He gave it to her.

 

The envelope crinkled a bit as she opened it. Inside, a tiny, dried crocus peaked back up at her. Her heart nearly stopped. The purple petals lay there, a perfectly preserved testament to the beauty of home. A sign of goodness and purity and renewal. It took a moment before she reached in and touched it. When she pulled it out, she looked at it more closely.

 

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

 

Nellie felt her throat tighten. For a moment, she couldn't form words. Her heart seemed to construct, forming a knot in her chest as she tried to pull her gaze away from the crocus.

 

"We don't see too many crocuses in Baltimore," she choked out a moment later. Nellie put the pressed flower gingerly back into the envelope. 

 

Hawkeye took it back. He hesitated before placing the envelope back on the shelf. "They're all over Crabapple Cove. Purple, white, all sorts of colors. My cousins used to pick them and make flower crowns."

 

They sat in silence. Though unusual when around Hawkeye, it somehow didn't feel wrong. Almost like they sat vigil for a lifetime they'd lost. Her thoughts drifted to Jack. She hoped he was doing alright, all that alone time.

 

Suddenly she stood. Nellie still didn't say anything. She poured herself a glass of their home brewed gin. With a heavy heart, she downed a large sip and nearly choked. "That doesn't get any easier."

 

Hawkeye cracked a smile. He stood and got himself a glass as well. "You're just weak."

 

"Weak?" 

 

"I mean you're a woman so…" 

 

He started cackling after a moment and assured her he'd been joking. With a quick movement, he clinked his glass against hers. "To home."

 

She took a deep breath. With a quick nod, she added. "And to those we left at home."

 

They both downed their drinks. Nellie felt her face scrunching against her will. Their gin was truly horrible. She realized he must've noticed when he suggested they find better alcohol.

 

"Why don't we drink some of that vodka you have hidden away?"

 

"Fine. But only one drink. I'm trying to keep it going as long as possible."

 

They left the Swamp. Side by side they trailed across the compound. They hadn't gone ten steps from the tent when BJ joined them. His white lab coat still covered his fatigues.

 

"You two really are starting to cause some rumors. You sure you two aren't a thing."

 

"Rumors, Dr. Hunnicutt. That's all they are." Nellie winked at him and gestured to her tent. "I can't well exclude you from our vodka plans."

 

"That sounds fun." 

 

"Didn't get your fill of fun in Post Op?" Hawkeye gestured over to the door as they walked past. A soft light emanated from the covered windows and doors.

 

BJ snorted. "Ton of fun."

 

Nellie frowned to herself. "How's Private Stevens?"

 

"Bigelow told me he took his pain meds like a champ. His wounds were minor. Why?"

 

Silently she chewed her lip. Connor Stevens, eighteen, had been having an intense panic attack when she'd helped him in Pre Op. He'd only had a minor leg wound, but the sight of all the wounded had triggered some intense emotions for him. He'd torn his pressure bandage off. Pulse rapid and breathing irregular, it'd taken a good five minutes for her to talk him down.

 

"No particular reason, I was just curious."

 

They reached her tent. Nellie opened the door and led the way inside. As Hawkeye sat on her bed and BJ took the chair, she pulled the suitcase out from under her bed where she kept the vodka. To her surprise, there was more left than she remembered.

 

"Alright. One drink." Nellie filled the three shot glasses. She sighed. "Right. What do we toast to?"

 

BJ paused. Then he raised his glass. "To the boys who go home men."

 

"I can drink to that."

 

Nellie agreed. "And for those who meet them back home." She downed it quickly. 

 

The taste of antiseptic filled her mouth. Nellie coughed, choking on the rubbing alcohol as BJ and Hawkeye started cracking up. One cough, too, she spit onto the ground.

 

"Very cleansing," Hawkeye managed through tears. "Now you're squeaky clean."

 

As she struggled to catch her breath, she slammed her glass onto her desk. "You rats!"

 

BJ didn't say anything, but he skittered behind Hawkeye. Nellie had grabbed one of her dress heels. They both shouted, tumbling out the door.

 

"I swear I will murder you both," she hissed. Nellie grabbed Hawkeye by the sleeve. "Where's my vodka!" She spit onto the ground again, trying to get the horrible taste out of her mouth.

 

"We gave it to Irving."

 

BJ cackled at her fury. "Oh no, Hawk, we're really in the doghouse now."

 

Managing to free himself from his button down, Hawkeye scurried away in his tee shirt. He cackled. "Throw us a bone here. We're just trying to have fun."

 

Nellie stopped. Her eyes narrowed. "You'll regret this."

 

The sudden change stopped them both. They stood quietly, trying to stop their own laughter. Nellie just walked away. She took Hawkeye's top shirt with her, ducking into her tent and locking the door. She looked at her vodka bottle full of rubbing alcohol. They had no idea what was coming for them.


	20. N*I*N*E*T*E*E*N

A/N: In which fire and brimstone arrive by Jeep.

A rousing knock on her door woke Nellie the next morning. She clawed herself out of bed. Grabbing her purple nightgown, she opened the door. Klinger stood before her.

"Hey Major, sorry it's early. Colonel wants everybody in his office, ASAP!"

"What for?"

"Some high and mighty Colonel's coming." He shrugged and went to leave. But then he turned back and lowered his voice. "Thanks for that clothes delivery."

Nellie grinned. "It went well?"

"Oh yeah. I had Goldman switch them out while the Padre showered. He looked absolutely beautiful wandering across the compound in a nearly see through nightgown." They both chuckled. He started leaning against her doorway. "By the way, who's was it?"

"That I can't say. The lovely young woman swore me to secrecy. Just leave it on my bed and I'll make sure it gets returned."

She smiled as he left her, hurrying next door to wake Margaret. Quickly she changed into her fatigues. As Nellie walked beneath the basketball hoop, she saw the other three surgeons arguing in the Swamp. Her eyes narrowed as she thought about her missing Vodka. Maybe she'd be able to recruit Klinger for help. He owed her a favor for getting the sexy nightgown from Shelley Lacey for his prank on Father Mulcahy. She could use that.

As Nellie entered the hospital through Klinger's office, she found Colonel Potter. He slammed the phone down. Nellie stopped.

"Damn!"

"What's wrong, sir?"

"That'll have to wait for the whole herd. Go on in and pick a chair, Major."

Nellie did as she was told. The gentle hominess of Colonel Potter's office caused her to smile. Sophie's saddle glinted in the lights, newly polished. Paintings of the various members of staff and another young man she'd never seen, decorated the walls. Behind the desk, horse art hung neatly.

Nellie chose a chair to the right of the desk. She hadn't been seated for even a minute when BJ, Charles, and Hawkeye entered. As Hawkeye came in, she noticed his gait seemed off. He put less pressure on his right side. A limp?

BJ sat himself in the remaining chair next to Nellie. She noticed his jaw was clenched and his eyebrows furrowed. When Charles moved the extra chair beside BJ, she noticed the same thing.

Nellie looked over to BJ. But as she went to ask about it, Margaret and Colonel Potter came in. His eyes narrowed at her smiley entrance. The air seemed to freeze. When Margaret joined Hawkeye on the crates along the wall, all the surgeons sneered.

"Right. I want you all to listen up. Pierce."

Potter pointedly looked over at him. Clearly Nellie wasn't the only one noticing Hawkeye's furious fixation with Margaret.

"I'm listening, Colonel."

"Good! Because I've got some bad news, folks." He folded his hands behind his back. With a small pause, he let them sit in anticipation. "Tomorrow we'll be getting an inspection from some brass. Colonel Daniel Webster Tucker, of the Surgeon General's Office, is coming here."

Margaret shrugged. "We pass all our inspections, sir."

With a quick nod, Colonel Potter continued. "Word is, this Tucker hombre is tougher than beef jerky and harder to swallow. He's as stiff as a board. So for the sake of me, and my eagles"–he pulled on his collar–"there will be nothing, nada, in the way of larks, antics, or shenanigans while he's here." Potter let the words sink in, then turned to Nellie, BJ, and Charles in the chairs. "Understood?"

"Of course, sir."

"Got it."

"Loud, and-or clear sir."

"Pierce?"

"Thanks, for the room service Margaret. I did always love breakfast in boot."

She couldn't help but smile as Margaret feigned innocence. Clearly, Nellie realized, she hadn't been the only one with revenge on the mind. The irritation of the other surgeons suddenly made sense. Nellie grinned. After some banter, Hawkeye reluctantly agreed to Potter's terms.

"I'll follow your instructions to the letter."

As the room grew more serious, with Colonel Potter stressing his fire and brimstone predictions, Nellie felt her throat tightening again. Her palms became clammy. Thoughts of this Colonel Tucker reacting poorly to her presence filled her mind. Any and all desire for revenge for the vodka disappeared immediately.

The Colonel dismissed them. With a skip in her step, Margaret left the hospital, the three other surgeons hot on her tail. But Nellie waited a bit longer. She glanced up at the clock on the wall. 0832 hours.

With a deep breath in to calm her nerves, she stood. Her pulse raced; she could feel her heart pounding. Breathe in, hold for four, breathe out, hold for four. Nellie pulled on her white coat and stethoscope. She decided to visit the wounded.

Twelve of the beds in Post Op were full. Her breath hitched for moment as she saw their faces. Black, white, asian. Young, middle aged. They were all different, but somehow lying in those beds, they were the same. Wounded, hurting soldiers. They were just like her brother.

Nellie forced a small smile on her face. Gwen sat at the Nurse's Desk and they said quick hellos. For about twenty minutes she checked in on the casualties. Without meaning to, she put off speaking with Private Stevens. But at last she came to him.

His light brown hair lay messy on his head. He sat propped up quietly, picking at his eggs and cold cuts. The fork scratched at the metal tray. With a quick smile, Nellie stood at the foot of his cot.

"Good morning, Connor."

"Hi, Major." Stevens tried to push himself up further.

"You're fine there," she assured him. Nellie took his clipboard off the hook and sat down next to him on the foot locker. "How do you feel? Aside from the terrible food that is."

He gave a tiny, humorless laugh. "Honestly the food isn't that bad! It's worse up on the line."

"Our cook, Pernelli, always whips up the best for the wounded. Lots of powdered eggs."

He flashed her a genuine smile. "Well, I appreciate it regardless."

Nellie checked the dressing on his leg wound. Little discharge, clean sutures. The scraped skin around it had also calmed down from the fiery red to a more wholesome pink. "You know, you look great."

"Thanks, Major."

"Is there anything else I can do for you," she asked. Seeing Connor there, wounded in bed with a forced smile, broke her heart.

"I just wish I could stop thinking."

The confession came quietly. Suddenly before her on the bed lay Jack. Bloodshot blue eyes, sweaty face. Consumed by exhaustion from sleepless nights, from screams only he could hear. Her heart raced again. Her throat and hands clenched. She could taste iron as she bit down on her tongue. The emotion she tried hardest to quench, fear, filled her body. Never knowing if Jack would be there the next day, never knowing if he'd give up the alcohol, never knowing what would set him off. Never knowing… Nellie stopped herself. Breathe in for four, hold for four, breathe out for four, hold for four.

"Connor." Her voice hitched. "I can fix your physical wounds. Your leg, that's easy. That's a wound we can see." Tears filled her eyes. But she refused to let them fall. She tried to swallow despite her painfully sore throat. "But war, it does more than to you than physical, visible wounds. Maybe it's worse, the silent, invisible suffering. But I know, I know you can get through it. You can't let fear stand in your way of getting better."

He crossed his arms. Through gritted teeth he muttered, "I'm not scared."

"You're a fool then." Nellie sighed audibly. She hesitated, and then put her hand on his arm. "Connor, everyone is scared here. You should be attending college, or starting work. Not fighting a war. But you are. Being scared is a healthy response to keep you safe. I'm just saying you can't let it control you. Not here, and not when you go home."

"Am I going home?"

Nellie frowned. She looked at his leg and then met his gaze. "Not yet. The wound isn't severe enough." When she saw him clam up, she continued. "You'll get there. I promise."

Leaving post op didn't calm her nerves. She could feel her right hand shaking. All thought of breakfast was gone. Nellie sighed.

After getting her journal, she took a walk. Stress filled her body. She could feel the tension in her muscles, her clenched jaw. She had promised her brother to stay away from day drinking as a coping methods as much as she could. So far she'd done alright with that promise, as most day drinking had been social, not self medicating. But man if her mouth wasn't watering for a beer at least.

Nellie set herself up on the chopper pad again. Solitude, yet able to watch everything. Below her, she saw a group of nurses and orderlies heading to Rosie's. She spotted Klinger heading to the Motor Pool. Doubtless the laid-back Sergeant Rizzo was hanging there somewhere.

Moments later, the quiet lilting of music from Charles' record player made its way up to the top of the pad. She couldn't stop herself from smiling as she imagined how BJ and Hawkeye were going to react.

Time seemed to stand still as she turned to her sketches. The fear fell away. Her beating heart faded into the background. Nellie focused on the ink spilling from her pen, which took its cue from her mind. But she confined the memories. She only allowed herself to picture happy times, to picture good times.

When she let herself back into focus, out of the gentle escape, she saw Colonel Potter shooting basketballs. His feet stayed in one place, pointed towards the basket. Every time he prepared for his shot, he hunched. Clearly this was not his first time. When he made the basket, he didn't cheer. He just nodded to himself and retrieved the ball.

She couldn't see either Hawkeye or BJ. But the fact that she could still hear Charles's record led her to believe they weren't there. She supposed they could've gone to Rosie's. Her watch read 16:47 hours. Dinner time.

Pain shot up her legs as she stood. Nellie stumbled a bit. Clearly sitting for half a day had been the wrong choice after hours in surgery. She stood still. The pain faded. Still, her body ached and stiffened as she walked down the stairs into the covered laundry area.

"Major!"

She turned at Klinger's voice. He waved to her with a smile from the bench outside post op. At his feet was Irving. Who could resist a puppy? Certainly not Nellie.

"Hey there, buddy."

"Never knew you cared."

Nellie chuckled. But she just knelt down, ignoring the dirt and rocks pressing into her knees through the pant fabric. "I meant Irving, but you're great too."

The small white and dark brindle dog had fur like velvet: short, but pleasant on the skin when pet correctly. Irving's hot breath on her skin tickled. Despite the horrors of the landscape around them, he still loved people. So much trust was dangerous, Nellie could help but feel. But this dog relied on trust for survival.

"The Swamprats are catching dinner in a minute," said Klinger. "And Major Houlihan just went in. If you're hungry? We didn't see you at lunch."

Nellie pulled herself away from Irving as the dog seemed to realize it was time. He bounded off, leaving her to stand. "Yeah I am pretty hungry. Not that the food is going to fix anything."

Klinger snorted in response. When they wandered over to the Mess Tent, Roy, Kellye and Shari were leaving. They all exchanged pleasantries. As Nellie walked inside, she spotted Fr. Mulcahy at a table with Margaret. With a tray in one hand, she used the other to grab utensils and coffee. Green beans, corn, and meatloaf seemed to be the delicacies that night. Sniffing it, her nose scrunched up.

Gently, she placed her tray on the table beside Margaret. Both she and Father Mulcahy nodded to her with their mouths full. Nellie swung her leg over the bench and sat herself down.

"Been busy today, Major?"

Nellie smiled. "Just a bit, Father."

"I had laundry to do today," Margaret said. "Too much to do and too little time for it. You've got to use every minute you can."

"I suppose, though silence and solitude is important. The Lord knows I might lose my sanity if I had to plan every moment of my day. No time for prayer, no time meditation. Such a shame."

With a nod, Nellie agreed immediately. "Sometimes I just need to relax."

Margaret just scoffed. "If I had time to relax I'd love to! I tell you though, there's too much relaxing around here. Orderlies not doing their jobs, nurses a few minutes late for shifts."

She had zero interest in engaging Margaret in a philosophical debate of work versus play, so Nellie kept her mouth shut. She focused on the food. It took all her effort to load her fork and take a bite, it left little time for arguing anyways. In the end, Nellie couldn't get the feeling of impending doom to leave. So as Hawkeye and BJ entered the Mess Tent ten minutes later, she bid them all goodbye.

The showers weren't occupied when she passed them. Nellie decided to shower and then write a letter to her brother. So that's what she did, after mucking around in her tent.

When her shower ended, it was 18:32. The sky was starting to darken, and a chill filled the air. The walk across camp felt oddly pleasant. Wind nipped at her skin, whatever had been exposed by wearing only a bathrobe. Her neck especially gave her shivers, with her damp hair tied up in a towel.

After changing into her Hawaiian shirt and fatigue pants, she settled into her desk. For an hour, she stared at the paper. All she had written,  _Dear Jack_ , taunted her. After a while, she poured herself some scotch. Nellie smelled it first.

Still, the words wouldn't come. What was she supposed to say? Hi Jack, hope you're doing alright, I don't want you to kill yourself while I'm in Korea. Hi Jack, I know we decided your brain problem wouldn't be enough to stop me from taking this position, but now I'm here and feeling guilty? Hi Jack…

The clock read 19:56 hours. Nellie set her pen back into its holder and sighed. Fatigue weighed her down. Her shoulders felt heavy, and her arms weak. Private Stevens's face wouldn't leave her mind whenever she wrote Dear Jack.

When she opened the door to the compound, the sound of cicadas echoed through the hills nearby. A billion stars shined above them. Nellie paused for a moment. But before long, the low light flooding the area from Post Op brought her back to reality.

Kellye sat on duty. Most of the lights in Post Op had been turned off, but Nellie could see clearly enough from the lamp on her desk. She scribbled away at reports. But Kellye looked up when Nellie walked in. They both waved silently.

Her heart beat faster with every small, quiet step she took. Nellie looked at each of the wounded. They all lay silent, asleep and at peace. Again she came last to Connor Stevens's bed. The fact that he didn't even have a single chin hair made her want to scream. This was a child they'd sent to war.

Jack had been twenty two when he'd volunteered. She remembered saying goodbye, just as she had been leaving for Cambridge. Neither of them knew what that goodbye had meant. Connor's family would face the same, when he eventually went back home.

In the dim light, she watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath the sheets. She closed her eyes, tuning into the breathing around her. She heard Kellye's pencil scratches, too, and on the edge of hearing, the cicadas.

Then she heard some shouts. Laughter followed. Both Kellye and Nellie looked at each other. Nellie motioned for her to stay put. As she opened the door, she found Margaret yelling at the laughing BJ, Hawkeye, and Charles.

"You- you crumbs!"

Margaret grabbed Hawkeye by the robe. While she pulled it off, she whacked him with a pillow.

BJ just cackled, dodging out of the way. Her fury missed him by mere inches. "We have it to a dog! Now it's a pup tent!"

"You idiots!" Margaret went after the laughing Charles, and pounded him several times with the pillow. Feathers flew.

Nellie just stood there, watching with a small smile on her face. But moments later it was gone, as light from Jeep headlights filled the compound. The roar of the engine died along with their laughter. When the lights turned off, and their temporary blindness fixed itself, they saw the infamous Colonel.

His whole body was large, made more of fat than muscle. But he stood a good few inches taller than Nellie, and had a permanent snarl engraved in his features. The Colonel didn't even try to hide his scorn when he stepped from the Jeep and up to the lightly chuckling surgeons. He stepped on a handful of feathers as they floated to the ground.

"What's going on here?"

Margaret stuttered. But drawing herself up, she gestured to the three men. "These crumbs stole my tent."

Nellie had to swallow a laugh, despite the tension. That certainly was a prank. But the Colonel hardly looked amused. As Hawkeye rambled on about being called a crumb, his face only more stern.

"This is absolutely disgraceful."

"Yeah they sure don't make pillows the way they used to," BJ added.

Charles straightened up, brushing a feather from atop his balding head. "Please forgive our antics, sir. A bit of harmless fun."

When they got no response, Hawkeye jumped in. Be stuttered, momentarily lost for words, but finally continued on. "I uh, I take our feathers don't tickle your fancy."

With identical eye rolls, both Margaret and Nellie grew tired of his antics. But there wasn't time to apologize as the man looked them over. He growled audibly.

"I am Colonel Daniel Webster Tucker, Surgeon General's Office, here to observe your medical staff in action. Now who the hell are you people."

"Actually, we're - uh - we're just the medical staff." BJ shrugged helplessly, sending a pleading look at the others.

Tucker snarled. He looked them all over, and when his gaze met Nellie's, his nose wrinkled. He turned back to the others. "I want to see your commanding officer, immediately."

Before he could say any more, Colonel Potter raced from his tent. His red and white striped bathrobe flashed in the light of the compound. He balled his fists and yelled, his voice cracking. "What in the name of Marco blessed Polo is going on here!" He stopped suddenly, seeing the new Colonel. "Oh, ah. You must be Colonel Tucker?"

"And you have to be Colonel Potter. My God, man. What kind of place are you running here? Between surgeons and nurses who pillow fight, and a woman playing doctor dressed like she's at the beach!" Tucker shook his head. "Don't you have one competent man around here?"

Nellie's heart sank. She could feel the blood warming her cheeks, and her chest tightened. Pretender, dollface, spinster, sugar. The nicknames came back as she saw his anger boiling. In medical school, she'd have ignored them, or proved herself their better. But in the Army, like at Johns Hopkins, there remained a chain of command.

As the others continued talking, Nellie blocked them out. She'd have to take whatever Colonel Tucker threw her way. Survival mattered. That was all. She had to stay in the fight, stay here for herself and for all the women she could perhaps open the door for.

When Tucker left with a strangely eager, well dressed Klinger, she let herself refocus on the conversation. The other four started to leave, but Potter called them back.

"So despite my direct order who all decided to put be stupid first on your list of things to do!" Potter looked about ready to hit someone. He glared at them. As Margaret and Hawkeye protested, he shouted for them to be quiet. "The senior inspecting officer in all of the Far East comes in here at full boil, so you jokers turn up the heat!"

"Leave Major O'Hara out of this at least, sir. She had no part in our antics." Charles gestured over to her.

Nellie shrugged, silent, in response. She couldn't find the will to speak. Silence was more comfortable.

"Then she has more sense than the rest of you basket of kittens! This guarantees that no matter how spiffy we carry on tomorrow, it won't be good enough."

As he stomped away, Nellie hugged her arms closer to herself. She pulled Jack's Hawaiian shirt closer to herself. Without appearing to run, she made her way as fast as she could to her tent. Solitude was all she needed. Quiet, comfort. She would need that to get through the inspection.


	21. T*W*E*N*T*Y

They'd been in surgery for four hours, and Nellie had remained as silent as possible. She watched as Colonel Tucker stalked the room like a lion and it's prey, eyes peeled for any little mistake. The pressure didn't seem to get to the boys, though. Hawkeye and BJ seemed only slightly quieter than usual, and Charles was the epitome of poise like always.

Nellie cracked her neck, trying to will away the hammering that had settled at the base of her skull. She turned to Kellye. "3-0 silk."

The surgical silk glinted in the lamp light as Kellye passed it over. She could hear BJ and Charles going on about their patient, but Nellie tuned it out. Focus on the patient and the patient only. One suture at a time, the nasty belly wound closed at last.

"What do you want, a medal?" Tucker's voice echoed through the operating room.

"Finish up, please." As Kellye did as she was asked, Nellie stretched her neck again. But she paused as Colonel Tucker's gaze fell on her.

"These OR sessions a bit much for your stamina, Major?"

"No, sir." She straightened and shook her head. "Just stretching."

Tucker sneered. "I hope not. Because it wouldn't look good on a report to the Surgeon General's Office that the one woman sent to a combat post was tired after the first few hours."

"No, it wouldn't, sir." Nellie locked eyes with him and then looked away. She moved back as two orderlies placed a patient before her. His leg wound wasn't severe, but he needed a few stitches in his head as well. "Gloves!"

Shari snapped them on. Gloves and ready to go, she got to work on the head wound. His reddish brown hair was caked with blood. Nellie couldn't count the number of freckles on his young face, and she started by wiping his face of blood the beat she could.

The hours dragged on. The OR session didn't last particularly long. They were out by one in the afternoon. Her hardest case had been a dirty belly wound. She feared infection would set in.

"Start him on streptomycin," she instructed Shelley. Looking down at the young black soldier, she sighed. "Monitor Sergeant Lewis's temperature for a spike and get me if it goes over 101-5."

"Yes, Major."

Nellie hung his chart back up and turned around to look in on her other patients from the previous OR session. Several of them were waiting to be shipping out that night, including Connor Stevens. She smiled at him. But moments later, as she moved away from Lewis's cot, she noticed Colonel Tucker double checking her work. Irritation consumed her. Nellie had to force herself to smile for Private Stevens.

"How are you doing, Connor?"

"Much better, Major. Thank you."

As she went to respond, Colonel Tucker's biting response to BJ's exhaustion rung out in Post Op. "You were also up very late performing idiocy!"

Hawkeye, BJ, Charles, and Margaret glared at each other. Nellie tried to block it out, she tried to let them handle it themselves. That last she needed to do was engage an irate, powerful Colonel. But things only got more heated. She cursed herself, but she couldn't let him continue to badmouth the surgeons and nurses of the 4077th.

"Colonel, what they did last night was wrong." Nellie got up and wandered over to where she though fists might be ready to fly. She kept her voice low. "It was silly. But sometimes here silliness is needed to keep people from going crazy."

"Did you fill their heads with this idea? You are all soldiers, you belong to the United States Army. Though I suppose you might not comprehend what that means, being a woman."

Margaret and the others gasped audibly. Nellie bit her lip hard enough to make it bleed, and just smiled. "Whatever you say, Colonel."

BJ, Charles, and Hawkeye fought to get a word in edgewise, and finally they agreed to have a word outside the hospital with the Colonel. Nellie hesitated. But she eventually followed.

Hawkeye started speaking as soon as the door to Post Op closed. "Why don't we make a deal, Colonel. We stop breaking pillows and you stop breaking our butts."

"I don't make deals."

"Then how about just acting human."

Colonel Tucker straightened up at BJ's insult. He gritted his teeth and shook his head. "Better what that mouth of yours, Captain."

"Careful, Hunnicutt. It's against protocol to inform a superior officer that he is inferior."

Margaret agreed with Charles. She folded her arms. "This man would have to work his way up to inferior.

"I'm going to shape this place up." Tucker pointed at each of them. "And I can't think of a better place to start than barring all of you from medical service."

Nellie's mouth went dry. She bawled her fists and glanced away, over towards the center of camp. No words came.

"That hurts, doesn't it?"

But Hawkeye just laughed. "The Colonel's gonna make us stand in a corner of Korea!"

"And go to bed without supper," said Margaret.

"You think you're very funny, don't you. I've had it with you screwballs." He began to smirk, causing Nellie's heart to sink. Colonel Tucker continued. "As of right now you're all up on charges for insubordination, conduct unbecoming of officers, and anything else I decide to throw in there.

"I can't believe that!" Margaret's face paled. Her arms dropped to her side.

Colonel Tucker smiled. "You better believe it. If I have it my way, you'll all be court-martialed. And since I make those decisions, I always get my way."

Nellie felt tears, angry and sad, spring to her eyes. The lump in her throat only grew as she held it back. She'd had one chance to make this work. One chance to change history and advance her career. One chance in the Army. And now, it was gone.

"Let me see you laugh that one off, gang."

As he stomped back into Post Op, Nellie found herself feeling sick. She felt dizzy, nauseous. She didn't care that everyone was watching her as she all but ran to her tent. The world crashed down around her, and suddenly she wanted Jack more than ever.

Nellie locked her door. The bottle of Scotch, almost empty on her desk, looked particularly appetizing. But the promise she'd made to Jack, not to use too much alcohol during day hours, made her stop. No matter how much her mouth watered, she had to ignore it. So she sank down to the floor, hugging her knees. Tears flooded down her face in a way she hadn't experienced since the hard days with her brother's recovery.

Someone rapped on her door. She didn't respond.

"Nellie?"

She covered her mouth at Hawkeye's question. She had to get ahold of herself. Finally she stood, brushing the tears from her face. As best she could and detangling her wet hair off her cheeks. "Not now, Hawkeye." Panic started to fill her body, her chest tightening.

"Nellie."

Finally she stood off the ground. Her arms shook. Nellie closed her eyes, trying to will her body to stop. Stop shaking, stop crying, stop feeling the emotions. Carefully she undid the latch and opened the door.

Hawkeye stood outside her door. No mirth was in his posture or his voice. He looked her up and down. "You alright?"

"I'm fine." Another wave of panic crashed over her. She tried to shut the door, but Hawkeye stopped it. Nellie just glared. More panic. She fled inside. Her voice quavered, and she grabbed her bed to steady herself. "If you come in, you have to close the door."

He didn't have to be told twice. The door shut quietly. Nellie turned away, and just held her mouth shut for dear life. Tears bled out the corners of her squeezed tight eyes, no matter how hard she willed them away. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. All she knew was that everything she'd worked for over her entire life had disappeared in a matter of seconds.

Somehow she managed to sit herself on the ground, knees to her chest. Back against her bed, she just covered her face. She hated this, the total lack of control. It made her feel so weak.

Suddenly she felt Hawkeye's hand on her right knee. It stopped her trembling for a moment. "Nellie-"

"I couldn't keep my damn mouth shut!" Nellie wiped away her tears as best she could. "I had to get involved. It was so stupid!"

Hawkeye grabbed her hand. He didn't say anything. Nellie got the feeling he didn't know what to say. But she used his warm hands as a way to ground herself. He was real. The panic would pass. Her life wouldn't end. She couldn't let this end her career. She wouldn't.

Nellie finally managed to look at his face. Hawkeye kept his eyes on the ground away from her. Anger was etched into his expression, fury at the circumstances. Not for the first time, she kicked herself mentally for being so attracted to him. He had a fire in his heart to rival her own. It amazed her.

His eyes met hers. Neither was one to back down by breaking eye contact. Even as her tears slowed, she made up her mind. If she was going to lose everything, she'd take this one small thing for herself.

She pulled him a bit closer. Quickly, so as not to second guess herself, Nellie's lips met his. She tasted the saltiness of her own tears. Hawkeye didn't hold back, and she found the embrace even more grounding. Colonel Tucker could take her career, but he couldn't take this.

When they broke apart, Hawkeye just grinned. His eyes sparkled with mirth. He always smiled with his eyes. She let herself fall back against the edge of the bed. Her head rested on it comfortably as she tried to get ahold of herself further.

"And I haven't even bought you a pizza yet."

Laughter erupted from her. Nellie couldn't stop her own grin even as she wiped away tears. She shrugged. "Colonel Tucker can take my life's work away, but he can't take away my life."

"You know if I'd known coming in way gonna lead to that, I would've come in sooner." Hawkeye winked at her and continued crouching in front of her.

Nellie snorted. "You came in pretty fast, Hawk. And you've been hoping for that since I got here."

"The pursuit is half the fun," he joked. But then he grew more serious. "Are you alright?"

"I've definitely been better."

Hawkeye stood up, straightening himself. He smirked. "The rest of us screwballs are going to stay in the Swamp. Maybe we can plan our court martial speeches." He held out his hand. "Coming?"

After a few seconds of hesitation, she took his hand. With a pull, he helped her stand. Nellie took a deep breath and wiped her last few tears with her sleeve. Hawkeye nodded at her. Finally, she felt control again. Tucker couldn't take that away any more.


	22. T*W*E*N*T*Y O*N*E

They walked side by side across camp. The late afternoon sun beat down hot, and Nellie shifted off her button down, exposing her light tan tank top beneath. When they approached the Swamp, they found BJ knitting something pink, while Margaret and Charles sat staring forward furiously.

Nellie took a few deep breaths. Calming her last few nerves, she moved inside when Hawkeye opened the door. Everyone turned to look.

"Well, screwballs, what's the plan?"

"Pierce there is no plan. We're going to be court martialed." Charles took a deep breath.

Nellie wandered over to the Still. She poured herself a martini glass of gin. Leaning against the table, she took a sip. Margaret sat against the furnace on a chair they used for poker. She had one hand on her chin, deep in thought. Nellie found it funny that BJ had seated himself on Charles's desk. If that wasn't proof of how despondent Charles was, then the man's somber seated position, hands folded across his chest, gave her all the proof she needed.

Hawkeye picked up BJ's bright pink yarn and sat down on Charles's bunk. His silence reigned. Only the occasional clicking of the knitting needles broke it. Finally, just as Nellie's fears started to return, Hawkeye spoke up.

"You know...there is not one more free than those with nothing to lose."

BJ just shrugged. "Catchy, but irrelevant."

"Now is not the time to wax philosophic, Pierce. Especially not when one's address is to be changed to Leavenworth." Charles paused and then gaped. "Oh, my God, that's in Kansas…"

Nellie had to suppress a chuckle at his reaction. Fitting that Charles's fear would come not from the fact that they'd end up in prison, but that the prison they'd end up in was found in Kansas.

"Look, we're already getting busted for insubordination. Why not go out in a blaze of glory?"

Nellie choked on her gin. But she smiled. "Let the crime fit the punishment?"

BJ looked up. He stopped his knitting and nodded. "I love it."

"Let's get that twerp," said Margaret.

"Charles?"

"Pierce that is a childish and altogether immature and petulant suggestion. When do we nail the swine?"

Hawkeye grinned and rubbed his hands together. Then he turned. "Nellie, are you in?"

She didn't respond right away. Her initial reaction had been a resounding yes, but her brain forced her to stop. With what had happened so far, she could potentially dispute the charges. Maybe they'd be rescinded in court. If she joined them in this quest for revenge, all hope for that was gone. Helping the others had already cost her her commission and potentially freedom. Was she prepared to do that again? But then, could she live with herself if she didn't?

"Let's make it a good one," she said. Nellie met Hawkeye's gaze and nodded. His smirk back made her wink.

"Right. What does Tucker like most?"

"Being a jackass?" suggested Margaret.

"Not wrong, but what else."

BJ put the knitting on the desk beside him. "A shot and a beer."

Hawkeye smirked. The troupe spent an hour planning their attack. In the end they decided on simple, but dramatic. BJ went to find a barrel, and Hawkeye collected money around the camp.

In the end, Nellie had a shift in Post Op, so she left the others to set up their revenge. As 1700 hours rolled around and most of the camp went for dinner, she grabbed her lab coat and stethoscope. She entered Klinger's office.

Nellie laughed out loud. "What the hell are you wearing?"

Klinger lay in bed, dressed in what could only be described as a Cleopatra costume. A gold dress, it had cones of shiny silver as a bra, and a full beaded headdress as well. Klinger's dark chest hair did not complement the outfit.

"I am the queen of Egypt! Hail my servant!"

Nellie raised an eyebrow. She chewed on her lip to try and stop from laughing again. "Find a different servant, Cleo. I'm here with a telegram."

"What is a telegram? Is that a way to commune with the gods?"

"Klinger, Tucker isn't even here-" She paused when Klinger pointed to Colonel Potter's office. "Right. Then I'm going to leave this telegram on your desk. Whenever Tucker isn't here, send it." She put the folded paper near the phone and continued on into Post Op.

"Hey doc!"

Nellie turned from the Nurse's Desk, where she'd been checking in with Jan Baker. The man who had called her lay on the right side of post op, about three beds down. "What's wrong, Sergeant?"

"We was wondering if that Colonel guy did anything crazy to yah guys?" He gestured to the other patients near him. "We heard him blowing up outside earlier."

With a sad smile, she shrugged. Suddenly she realized she had the attention of the entire room, about fifteen beds.

"Well." Nellie turned herself to the whole room. They hung on her words. "Colonel Tucker has decided to bring the whole medical staff up on charges for insubordination and conduct unbecoming of an officer."

The whole room started arguing, with varying exclamations of disbelief. Jan looked at Nellie in shock. She just shrugged in reply, trying to force a smile.

"Calm down. It's not good for you all to be getting this excited," Nellie urged. "We're handling it."

"That's just not fair!"

"I know, Sergeant. But he's a Colonel."

Nellie started checking their charts. She stayed quiet, asking only a few questions of each patient. Finally she got to the patients who were going to be released in about an hour. Connor glared ahead of himself.

"How's your leg feeling, Connor?"

"Fine, ma'am." He paused, and then continued, glancing up at her. "You're going to be court-martialed?"

Nellie smiled, but her heart wasn't in it. She stood at the end of his cot and hung up his chart again. "We'll see what happens."

"I hope you don't."

Tears sprang to her eyes. She smiled again, and nodded. "If I don't see you before you're shipped back to your unit… best of luck Connor. Remember that it's okay to be scared."

As she said the words, she could feel in her heart how hypocritical it was coming from her. She tried everything to avoid real fear, real emotion. But there was no reason this eighteen year old needed to follow her example.

"Thanks, Major."

Nodding, she left post op. Her stethoscope went in her coat pocket, and she didn't even bother to take that off. 1800 hours had rolled around, but Nellie still didn't feel like eating. Hawkeye and BJ crossed the compound and joined her where she stood outside the hospital.

"How much money did you collect?" she asked.

Hawkeye grinned. "Enough to fill half a barrel!"

"It's a shame to waste the beer on him."

BJ and Hawkeye both laughed. They strolled together back to the Swamp. Nellie considered following them, but in the end she returned to her own tent for a nap. They had been up quite early for surgery, and it was starting to catch up to her. She set her alarm clock for 2030 hours.

It ended up being a knock at her door, and not the alarm that woke her later. She found BJ and Margaret at her door. Nellie nodded, saying she'd be along to the Officers' Club momentarily, and they left.

She put on her Hawaiian shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. If Tucker had issue with her clothing, he could take issue with it again. The walk over to the club didn't take long, and when she slipped inside, she smiled. The jukebox played swing in the background. Most of the tables were occupied, and she had to step around various patrons to reach the bar. She slipped in next to Hawkeye and Margaret.

"Rizzo's holding the table for us," Margaret told her.

Nellie looked over her shoulder. The Sergeant in question lay his head on the table, sleeping, a thick brown cigar stuck in his mouth. Her gaze then traveled up to the ceiling, where a small barrel had been suspended precariously over the chairs. A tan rope had been connected to it, hung across the ceiling to where it could be pulled in the Officers' Club corner. She couldn't stop a small smirk from forming.

Suddenly BJ came rushing over from look out at the door. "They're coming!"

"Right. He's had his dinner, now he's going to get his just desserts." Hawkeye moved over with BJ to Rizzo. "Hey Rizzo, we need the table now."

"What's," he drawled. "S'it lunch time?"

BJ stopped himself from laughing. "Uh, yeah."

"Good. I could use a meal."

They placed Rizzo at a table with Troy, Straminsky, and Vanderhoven. The three orderlies had to make room best they could. Just as Hawkeye and BJ scooted back over to the bar, Tucker and Potter came in.

Nellie watched, a shot of whiskey on her lips, as Hawkeye moved over to the pull rope. Listening to those around her, she heard Margaret and Charles muttering about other plans to get back at Colonel Tucker. The man in question continued to complain to Colonel Potter.

Goldman came over. "What'll it be, sirs?"

"Just a beer for me," said Potter.

"A shot and a beer."

"Uh, Colonel, could we see you over here for a moment?" BJ gestured to him.

Potter apologized to Tucker. When he reached BJ, he leaned against the bar between him and Nellie. "What's the matter, Hunnicutt?"

"Something's come up. Tucker's number."

Even as Potter looked at him in confusion, Goldman handed a drink to Tucker. But the other Colonel sneered. "I ordered a shot and a beer! Where's my beer?"

"Beer's on you, Colonel!"

At Hawkeye's shout, they all looked over with varying levels of laughter. Nellie kept her expression as straight as possible, but even she couldn't keep the smirk off her face. All at once, several things happened.

As Hawkeye pulled the rope, the half filled barrel of beer poured down on Colonel Tucker. Potter looked absolutely aghast, but the entire medical staff started cackling with glee. The nearby nurses and orderlies hopped away, shaking beer off their clothes and skin.

"You jackasses!" Tucker sputtered through the beer dripping down his face. His huge body rose from the chair. With a fury to rival anything she'd witnessed before, he shouted again. "You imbeciles!"

"Did you know you squish when you walk?" Hawkeye pointed at him. But he couldn't help himself from almost crying of laughter.

Nellie burst out laughing along with the others. The man walked forward, ready to kill someone. "Nobody does this to Daniel Webster Tucke-"

He collapsed. The room went silent. Only Colonel Potter reacted, rushing to the side of the drenched Colonel. "It's his heart!"

All mirth had drained from the room. Nellie covered her mouth in shock as the others rushed to help. Potter threw Hawkeye away. "You've done enough!"

She'd never seen the Colonel so angry. His eyes narrowed in hatred at the medical personnel. Her heart sank into her boot. No matter how much she hated the Colonel, she hadn't meant to contribute to his death.

"Pierce."

They all looked up as Colonel Tucker eeked out Hawkeye's name. The man came to the floor beside him as they waited for a gurney and blankets.

"What- what is it? I can't hear you."

The room went silent again. They could only hear the dripping of the beer off the table. Hawkeye looked torn apart.

"April fool's."

Silence.

"What?"

Colonel Potter and Colonel Tucker laughed so hard, Nellie thought they would burst. She looked at them in utter confusion. Potter helped Tucker off the ground, and they continued laughing their heads off.

"You were marvelous, Dan!" Potter grinned at his friend and then back at the surgeons. "We got all you jokers! Got you, and you, and even that hairy koo-koo who thinks he's queen of the Nile!"

All of the pranksters exchanged glances as Tucker straightened himself out and stopped crying from laughter. He sighed with a smile.

Potter just continued on. "I loved that line: 'Whaddya want, a medal?'" He cackled again.

"Like shootin' fish in a barrel!" Tucker put up his fists and pretended to punch them. "Wanna' step outside for a little four-letter word!"

Finally, Margaret cracked a smile. "You mean this whole time-"

"We set this up weeks ago!" Potter pointed at all of them. "I knew if Dan pushed you fool's hard enough, you'd pull a stupid stunt like this! Y'all went for it like a school of hungry carp!"

BJ, Hawkeye, Margaret and Charles started laughing along. But Nellie couldn't. Her shock turned to anger, a boiling rage that made her fists clench until her knuckles turned white. As the others started clapping, she turned back towards the bar and had Goldman refill her whiskey. She downed the new glass in one motion.

As Potter and Tucker started telling tales of their April Fool's Day pranks, she moved away from the bar. They'd been doing it all the time since World War One. The others seemed enraptured by their tales, but Nellie shook with anger. She put her glass down at the end of the bar. Leaving them to their antics, she left quietly.

Her feet took her away. After retrieving her journal, she moved away from the Officers' Club, away from the hospital. She found herself leaving camp. Lights flooded out of Rosie's bar as she approached. The big sign over the door welcomed her.

She found it surprisingly empty. Two tables had soldiers, but other than that, only Rosie, a couple comfort women, and a worker meandered about.

"Major, welcome! How you enjoying Korea so far?" Rosie walked over as Nellie came to the bar.

Nellie just bit her lip. "It's interesting. Anyone using the side room?"

"Not tonight. Got a couple tables in there also. Take a seat." As Nellie nodded, she added, "Whatcha drinking tonight?"

"Vodka."

"Right. I'll bring it in."

Nellie sat herself down at a table in the side room. She enjoyed the solitude it offered, while still being able to hear the rest of the bar. Taking her anger out on the page, she began composing a letter to her brother. She'd need to send out a telegram later to him to bring him up to speed that she wasn't being court-martialed, but she wanted to send a letter out as well.

As her hand scribbled across the page, the bar fell away. It became her, her anger, and her pen. Even the vodka was left untouched.

"Penny for your thoughts."

She glanced up to see BJ leaning in the doorway. Though he smiled, she could just tell his brain worked overtime. Nellie leaned back and shut her book.

"You left in a hurry."

"You're always the observant one, aren't you. I wasn't as amused as most of you seemed to be."

BJ chuckled. He moved into the side room and pulled out the chair across from her. With a shrug he just sighed. "Didn't appreciate their sense of humor?"

"I've got a lot to think about."

"Yeah, after you and Hawk-"

She sat straighter. "I kissed him, Hunnicutt. But yes, the fact that I'm not about to be thrown in jail makes this more complicated." Then she narrowed her eyes. "How did you find out, anyways?"

The grin on BJ's face widened. "I can read Hawkeye like a book. And his face when you two left your tent told me all I needed to know." He leaned back in his chair. "Besides, it was only a matter of time."

"Given Hawkeye's pursuit of all the women in camp-"

BJ stopped her. "No. Because he won't stop talking about you." When he saw her confusion he just laughed. "I don't think he realizes it. But you come up in conversation all the time. I'm starting to worry that my place as number one in his life is about to change."

"I've only been here a little over a week and a half, BJ."

"What can I say?" He shrugged. "When Hawk falls, he falls hard."

Nellie fell quiet. Her heart beat slowed from the angry, quick pace it had been going at earlier. Again, she had much to think about. Unbidden memories of a tall blonde man with sharp green eyes and a fun smile filled her head. She'd tried so hard to push those memories away. At the time, he'd meant the world. But slowly, she'd seen him grow more and more jealous. He couldn't be beaten by a girl.

"I'm not sure I want to commit."

"I'm not sure Hawk can commit yet, to be honest." BJ shrugged. "He got hurt by someone a long time ago. I met her once. Nice girl, beautiful."

"I know the feeling," she admitted. Nellie leaned back in her chair and played with the pen in her lap. Then she sat up straighter. "Looks like your spot as number one isn't changing any time soon, BJ."

He just laughed.

"You've been trying to play matchmaker since I got here, so don't complain about losing your spot." Her eyes narrowed. "What are you planning, Hunnicutt?"

"Me? Nothing?" He smiled innocently. "I'm not playing matchmaker. What are you talking about?"

Nellie watched him skeptically. After a moment, she downed the glass of vodka and picked up her journal. She paid Rosie. Together they walked back to camp in silence, both deep in thought. She had a lot to digest.

 


	23. T*W*E*N*T*Y T*W*O

Nellie stared at the mirror on her desk. Tired eyes stared back. Her watch read 0413 hours. Way too early to be awake, but awake she was nonetheless. 

 

Colonel Tucker had left four days ago. Since then, Nellie had settled into a routine. The morning went the same every day: wake up, shower, read, have breakfast with the surgeons. But Nellie hadn't been able to sleep the entire night. She'd lain awake, staring at the tent roof, willing her mind to quiet. It had gone on hour after hour.

 

Her red satin pajama pants and tank top felt too comfy to change out of. Instead, Nellie grabbed her light purple, fluffy bathrobe and slipped into her shower shoes. When she opened her door, the chorus of cicadas reminded her just how early it was. At least at 4:30 in the morning, the showers wouldn't have a line. 

 

And what better time to think than before the dawn? The world slept. Even the rats seemed to have taken the night off because she didn't trip over a single one on the way across camp. The Nurses' Shower stood as silent as everywhere else.

 

Once inside, Nellie undressed. As the air hit her, she shivered. Her clothes went on the small bench to the left of the door, and her bathrobe on the hook. She grimaced. The water would definitely be chilly based on the weather.

 

As it hit her, she squeezed her body as tight as possible. It stung like being pinched by needles. But the more she let the water wash over her skin, the less terrible it felt. It became a bit of a relief. The past two nights before her sleepless one had been filled by OR sessions. At least she could rest, even if sleep eluded her.

 

That's when it hit her. Today was April 4th. Today was Jack's birthday. Two more days and it was her birthday. Nellie pulled the shower chain and the water stopped. How had she forgotten? In Korea she was thirteen hours ahead, so roughly 4:00 PM back home… yesterday. She had time. 

 

Nellie pulled the chain again and let the water run over her. She really hoped Klinger wouldn't for some reason pull her file so she could keep her birthday under wraps. While she was sure the camp would love a massive party, her birthday had always been a bit of a solemn affair given how close Jack's was, and on that day they never celebrated. Not since 1942.

 

She dried off quickly and wrapped herself in her bathrobe. Despite the sky getting brighter by the minute, the air had yet to warm up. Her feet squeaked in her shoes as she hurried across camp. By the time Nellie changed into fatigues, it was 0530 hours.

 

With nothing to do, Nellie went to Post Op. One of Hawkeye's severe patients hadn't been doing well, so a visit couldn't hurt. She slipped inside quietly. To her surprise, Hawkeye sat on an empty cot staring at a chart. Gwen sat at the nurse's desk.

 

Nellie held the door so it wouldn't make a noise. The occupants of Post Op all slept. About nine beds were still full from the OR session two days ago. As quiet as she could, Nellie moved over to Hawkeye. His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared down at the patient chart, pencil in one hand.

 

"Morning."

 

He looked up at her whisper. Offering her the chart, he just sighed. "His kidneys have shut down."

 

Nellie looked down at the charts. Blood tests were consistent with acute renal failure. Her heart sank. Sitting down next to him, she frowned. "What about that kidney machine I heard you and BJ rigged up last summer?"

 

"This progressed too rapidly. There wasn't any time." Hawkeye looked at the boy in question. He had auburn-red hair and pale skin made even more clammy by the prognosis. "He's eighteen! He should be having girl troubles not fighting this goddamn war."

 

She stayed next to him. They hadn't talked much since she'd kissed him about that, other than him agreeing not to gloat about it around camp. But seeing him there, the absolute despair and pain on his face as all he could do was watch this child die before his eyes, she felt moved to help in some way. Some way, like the way he had helped her.

 

So she took his hand. Nellie felt him relax at the contact. She had seen how much he seemed to rely on touch for comfort. "Hawkeye." She wanted to say more, but her voice caught in her throat. 

 

He sighed again and stood up, breaking contact with her. The clipboard went back on the hook. After telling Gwen to get him when symptoms progressed, he went to leave. Nellie hurried after him.

 

"Hawk." She put herself in front of him. Her voice stopped again. But she made up her mind. "Can we take a walk?"

 

His eyebrows shot up and he forced a cheeky grin. "Like a date?"

 

"No pizza, no date." But she took a deep breath and nodded. "This is a bit more pressing." Gesturing forward, she watched in amusement as be dragged himself over. "Today's my brother's birthday."

 

"Happy birthday!" Then he grinned. "We can throw a party!"

 

"No!" She paused. "Sorry. No. Since the Second World War, we haven't exactly celebrated it. Not as a party, anyway." Hesitation stopped her again. But finally, she nodded to herself and continued. "We have a tradition. Jack did it by himself until he moved back home, and then I joined him. We each buy a beer, and add one extra dedicated to all his friends who were killed in action." She didn't realize she'd stopped walking until Hawkeye moved in front of her. "So. I would be honored if you and BJ would join me tonight. And we can dedicate the extra to Private McNeil too."

 

He looked down at her. In a rare moment of total seriousness, be nodded. "I'd be honored."

 

She breathed in deeply and nodded. The pink and blue sunrise pulled her attention away for a moment as she calmed herself. Finally she looked back at Hawkeye. But her words failed her again, and she shut her mouth.

 

"Cat got your tongue," Hawkeye joked. "Must be how beautiful I am, it left you at a loss for words."

 

Nellie snorted. "You wish."

 

He smiled. "Supply room's open." When she rolled her eyes, he just chuckled. "I did manage to kiss you, so it's only a matter of time."

 

"One, I kissed you. Two, the fact that you somehow think I'll be wooed by your ways inevitably is absurd."

 

"Oh, right, right. My bad." His smirk just grew as he backed up against the wall near Post Op's door. He held up his hands. "Such a stubborn, proud woman surgeon will never fall for the handsome doctor."

 

Nellie bit her lip angrily. She stepped up to him and put her hands on her hips. "Proud? Yes I am! But I am not stubborn."

 

"Well…"

 

She went to push him. He caught her hand. Before she could pull away, he'd landed a kiss on her lips. To her own surprise she didn't pull back until he broke it.

 

"If last time was you, it was my turn." He still held her arm. With a quick wink, he pushed her arm down and let go.

 

"Could you two keep it down. Some of us are trying to sleep."

 

They both looked over to see BJ's head propped up through the mesh of the nearby Swamp. Hawkeye started cracking up, and Nellie just felt her face flush as she stepped back a bit.

 

"Thank you." Then as Hawkeye kept snickering, BJ lifted his head again. "And Hawk?"

 

"What else, Sleeping Beauty?"

 

"Try not to make her too angry. I'd hate to see Klinger have to fill out a death certificate. Honestly, I'm starting to think she's more dangerous than Margaret."

 

It was Nellie's turn to laugh. She just moved over to the side near BJ's cot. His head rested on his arms over his pillow. She bent over and pretended to whisper to him. "You're not wrong."

 

"I don't know, Hotlips is pretty scary."

 

Nellie snorted, and put her hands on her hips. "You're lucky she hasn't put you in Post Op for calling her that."

 

With a cute, innocent little shrug, Hawkeye just smiled. He went to respond when they were interrupted again. This time it was Charles.

 

"Pierce, if you do not shut your mouth I will come over and shut it for you." His head hadn't even moved, and his eyes remained closed. Finally he glanced at the clock. "I don't know what has possessed you to be awake and taking a stroll at… my god it's not even six."

 

"Hush-a-by Charles. You're angry when you're you."

 

"Yeah, Charles. Go back to sleep."

 

"Imbeciles."

 

"Doctor!"

 

They all turned, both BJ and Charles sitting up at the call. Gwen had poked her head out of Post Op. Her face was grim.

 

Hawkeye's mirth evaporated. "McNeil?"

 

"Yes, sir. His breathing's thready and we can't wake him."

 

"Damn it." Hawkeye's hands went to his hips. Without another pause, he hurried back to Post Op, putting his stethoscope on.

 

Charles and BJ both looked concerned. With a sigh, Nellie explained the kidney failure. Both of them fell silent. 

 

Her heart hurt. Nellie moved away, back to her tent. Her tent had quickly became a safe zone for herself in Korea, and as much as the cockroaches that snuck in were disgusting, the tent was home as much as anything else. Somehow, after all those hours of tossing and turning, she managed to sleep. 

 

Lunch came and went. She dined with Father Mulcahy, Klinger, and Margaret. When that was over, she sought out the surgeons. Hawkeye still slept.

 

"He was up quite a bit, worried about McNeil."  BJ told her about his rough night as they tossed horseshoes. So far he had ten points to her seven. "You're up."

 

"Don't rush me."

 

"Wouldn't dream of it."

 

"Right."

 

BJ chuckled. As they continued their game, corpsmen and nurses passed to and fro. A handful had started shooting a basketball, and another pair threw a baseball back and forth. Overall the day was livelier than most of the recent ones.

 

Thunk. 

 

Clang.

 

"Damn!" Nellie pinched her nose. Her two horseshoes edged just shy of beating BJ. Finally she shook her head. "Did Hawkeye mention my brother's birthday to you?"

 

"Yeah. Sounds like a good idea. Rosie's or the O Club?"

 

She paused. "O Club. I think Jack'd want them remembered surrounded by the Army."

 

"You don't talk about him much."

 

"No I don't." They looked at each other and both started smirking. Nellie gestured to the stake. "Throw your horseshoes."

 

"It's eleven to seven."

 

Nellie rolled her eyes. "For now."

 

While they threw horseshoes, the time went by quickly. Colonel Potter joined them when the score was seventeen to ten, and Nellie relinquished her place. She was content to watch the two men compete. Both were significantly better than her.

 

After dinner, Nellie became more stressed. She'd tried to place a call to Jack, but the phone lines and telegraphs were down to the States. All she wanted was to hear her brother's voice. She didn't want to think about his potential mental state on his birthday by himself.

 

Nellie stared at the Officers' Club door as she stood behind the Swamp. Arms crossed, heart heavy, she didn't notice BJ and Hawkeye come up to her until they stood to either side.

 

Hawkeye turned to her. "If you don't want us there-"

 

"No. No, I meant it when I asked." In her hand she held a small, black and white photo. A dozen men had crowded into place wearing airborne uniforms. As she started towards the Officers' Club, she hid it as best she could.

 

Father Mulcahy sat at the piano playing a soft tune. The only table available stood in the far corner, but Nellie was grateful for one at all. As BJ went to save it, she headed to the bar with Hawkeye.

 

"Major, Captain," said Igor. "What'll it be?"

 

Nellie didn't hesitate. "We need five beers." 

 

"Coming right up." Igor reached below the bar and pulled them out quickly. With a scratch and a pop, he undid the lids. "Whose tab?"

 

Hawkeye jumped in. "Mine." 

 

When she glanced up at him, he nodded. So she didn't protest. The lump in her throat stopped her. Together they carried the five beers over to the table. BJ had pulled a third chair over, and they sat down. Hawk passed him a beer.

 

Nellie didn't say anything as she put the two extra beers in the open area of the table. She couldn't. Her throat tightened, and her eyes watered. But at last she breathed in through her nose and sighed. The photo joined the beers in the center.

 

"To everyone war has claimed." Lifting her beer up, Nellie frowned. "The dead, and the living." 

 

Hawkeye and BJ copied her, and she clinked the brown beer bottle with theirs. Then she tapped the extra two. Under her breath, she wished her brother a happy birthday. Then she drank. 

 

After several minutes of listening to the bustle around them, BJ broke their silence. "When did your brother fight?" 

 

"In 1942 he joined up. He was placed in E Company, 2nd Battalion, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, of the 101st Airborne Division."

 

"Screaming Eagles?" BJ looked at her in surprise. "Quite an elite group."

 

"Yeah."

 

Conversation died again. Her heart wasn't in discussing it. From the letters Jack had written from Europe, they had definitely been an elite group. But what she knew more than anything was that such elite status meant they received more risky missions. And that meant more bloodshed. She downed half her beer.

 

After awhile, BJ and Hawkeye bantered with each other. Nellie let them go on without her. Even just having other people to celebrate Jack's birthday meant the world, but she didn't know how to express that. All situations surrounding her brother and the war made her clam up.

 

At 0230 hours, Igor wanted to close up. Almost everyone had left. So together they also left the Officers' Club. When Nellie looked back through the slowly closing door, all she saw were two beers on the table, untouched. A tribute to all that war caused.

 


	24. T*W*E*N*T*Y T*H*R*E*E

Twenty hours of surgery followed. Body after body had been carted into the OR. Blood stained the ground as pressure bandages and gauze were stripped from the wounded and replaced, then stripped again. Exhaustion gained a whole new meaning. Nellie, Hawkeye, and BJ were last out of the operating room. None of them spoke as they split to their changing rooms.

As Nellie dragged herself past the curtain, she found Judy Able and Jan Baker finishing changing their clothes. Silence reigned. Only the scuffing of tired feet across the wooden floor and the rubbing of fabrics made any noise. After changing, Nellie allowed herself to sit on the wooden bench. If her knees could talk, they would've thanked her profusely. She'd only taken a two hour nap two thirds of the way through and her legs hated her for it.

When she closed her eyes, head back against the wall, she let herself breathe. Nellie knew that as soon as she stood up to walk to her tent, the pain in her legs would triple. Her fingers still refused to bend, but she managed to pull her hair out of the updo and let it fall across her left chest.

She couldn't make herself move. Even off the ground, her legs burned. The minutes passed and she fell more and more comfortable in her place on the bench. Without thinking about it, Nellie laid herself down and covered her eyes with crossed arms. The hardwood against her skull didn't even bother her. It hurt a lot more to stand.

 _What a way to start your birthday,_  she mused. Though all the patients had survived their trip through the 4077th, she found herself worried about a Sergeant she'd operated on. She'd been forced to amputate his leg.

Nellie realized she had fallen asleep only when she woke up to find BJ standing over her. He waved with a smirk and then walked past the curtain to the other side. "I found her."

Groaning, she sat up. A sharp pang shot up her neck. Rotating her neck as best she could, she tried to stretch. "What time is it?"

"Twelve-thirty." With a shake of his head, BJ shrugged at her shock. "We ended surgery at six."

"Oh God. I must've passed out here."

Hawkeye passed the curtain and nodded. Laughing at her disheveled state, he just smiled. "Colonel wondered what happened to you."

"Why?"

"Who wouldn't be looking for you?"

"Your flattery won't get you anywhere, Hawkeye." But she smirked. Taking a deep breath, she sighed. "I guess I should get up."

"I'm sure Hawk would be happy to join you."

"Not sure there's room for me on the bench though-"

"Oh quit." Nellie stood. As all pressure went to her feet, she hissed, her breath hitching. "How does it still hurt after six hours!"

BJ just laughed and gestured to the door. Together they wandered outside. Her hand went to shade her eyes at the sun. Though as she looked out in the distance, dark clouds looked to be heading their way. Perhaps rain was on the way?

Nellie headed towards Colonel Potter's office. What could he need of her? She hadn't the faintest idea. When she walked in the door, Klinger entered his office from Post Op.

"Ay, major, Colonel was looking for you."

"So I've heard."

"He's in Post Op. I'll go grab him."

She nodded her thanks. While the other two surgeons stood to her right, she drummed her fingers on her arm. The clock read almost 1300 hours.

Moments later, Potter, Klinger, and Margaret came back in. The presence of the head nurse just served to confuse her further. But she followed them into the Colonel's office.

"Holy hemostat!"

Nellie jumped at the Colonel's exclamation. Behind her, BJ, Hawkeye, and Margaret groaned to varying degrees. But most surprising of all, a well-tanned, muscular man she'd never seen had propped his legs up on Potter's desk and surveyed a file.

"Flagg! What are you doing here?"

"Yeah, I thought we put you out of commission, permanently!" Hawkeye pushed past Nellie, hands on his hips. "Didn't the brass finally get tired of your stupid shenanigans?"

"I told you I'd be back, Pierce. Like the wind I may disappear, but I'm never gone." Flagg stood from the Colonel's desk.

"Yeah, well make like the wind and blow over."

"Major Nellie O'Hara." Flagg sidled around the desk like a snake. He leaned against the front and stared down at the file again. "Name, rank."

Her gaze rested on the Colonel's eagles pinned to his collar. "Um. Nellie O'Hara, Major?" With a quick glance around them, she suddenly realized paper decorations had been hung around the walls.

"Says here your name is Nellie Katherine O'Hara?"

"That's right sir."

"So not Nellie?"

"Uh, Katherine's my middle name, sir."

Colonel Potter shook his head. "What in the name of Rita Hayworth is this about, Flagg?"

"Intelligence business."

"Not if you're in charge, it's not," Hawkeye muttered.

"Careful, Pierce. I may not have been able to prove your little spy ring with Potter, but I will. I will."

Nellie's eyes widened. As she looked between the others, she saw just how absolutely done Margaret and Klinger seemed, and BJ and Hawkeye looked even angrier. She mouthed 'spy ring' in the latter's direction.

"I'm here to meet your woman surgeon, if she really is a surgeon."

"I assure you, I went to medical school." Nellie's arms crossed her chest again as she refocused in Colonel Flagg. Stepping past Hawkeye she stood resolute.

"So this claims. It also says you were born April 6, 1923. Your brother, Captain Jackson O'Hara received an honorable discharge from the 101st Airborne Division after the Siege of Bastogne during the Battle of the Bulge due to injuries sustained in battle. Received the purple heart and went on to spend time in Honolulu with the Army."

"Yes, sir." She gritted her teeth. Why did he need to announce all this?

"Recently he's been working in the State Department under General George Hanover." Flagg paused in reading from his file folder. "How'd you get this job, O'Hara?"

"It was offered to me."

Flagg peered at her from under his green military cap. "Do you deny your brother abused his position and relationship with General Hanover to secure you a post here?"

"What?" Nellie took a step forward. She felt someone grab her shirt and pull her back.  _Probably Hawkeye._

Potter just shook his head. "Take your conspiracy bull someplace else, Flagg. We don't want to hear it."

"Well Washington does!" Flagg stood from leaning against the desk and made his way to stand in front of Nellie. She stood a good half foot shorter, and he stared down at her. "What's your brother hiding, O'Hara?"

Nellie bit her lip to keep from yelling at him. It took a lot to get her this angry, but she would defend Jack to the bitter end.

"Is it true that your brother had to seek medical help from a psychologist after the war?"

" _That_  is none of your business. Sir."

"Woah there, Flagg. If you don't have that magic wand of yours to make us cooperate, you're going to have to leave. You don't speak to one of my officers without written permission."

"You're damn lucky, Potter. You managed to trick Washington into taking that away thanks to your spy ring. I'll be back, O'Hara." He sneered at all of them. Then he looked around. "I'm the wind-"

"Right!" Hawkeye shouted. "Everybody close your eyes!"

Nellie looked at him like he was crazy. After he shrugged, she just did as he said. They heard the door bang and then the door to the outside did the same. The collective breath of the room was released.

"Who the hell was that?" Nellie uncovered her eyes, thoroughly confused.

BJ's expression didn't change. He turned to see through the hazy plastic window panes in the office doors. No shape of Flagg couple be seen. "The wind."

"I prefer Gone with the Wind." Hawkeye struggled to suppress a smirk at his own joke.

Colonel Potter just sighed. He picked up the file Flagg had been reading. Its contents lay strewn about the floor, dropped unceremoniously. "I'm sorrier than a hen in a fox den."

"We were trying to throw you a surprise party," BJ explained.

"Until our resident bag of wind invaded camp."

This time both Hawkeye and BJ laughed at the former's pun. Glares from Margaret and the Colonel shut them up.

"Sorry, sorry. It won't happen again." Hawkeye nodded to himself. But his lips turned up into a smile. "They're just such a breeze to make."

"That one really blew me away, Hawk."

"I'm just a huge fan." Hawkeye's exaggerated cackling started up again.

"Pierce!"

"Sorry."

Her gaze wandered around to the decorations. Someone had strung cut out snowflakes and toilet paper around the office. Nellie put a hand on her right hip. "Thanks. I appreciate the effort. But you didn't have to."

"Wait, wait! We have a gift!" Hawkeye pushed forward as they all moved further into the office. Ducking behind the desk, he pulled out a bottle of vodka with a tied ribbon.

"We promise this is the real thing," BJ said.

Nellie laughed. "Thank you. All of you."

They all made small talk for a few minutes. But Colonel Potter and Margaret were due back in Post Op quickly, leaving the others to celebrate alone. As they meandered into Klinger's office, a Jeep could be heard outside.

"That's gotta be the mail!"

Even as Klinger spoke, a large, burly man with brown hair covered by a green uniform cap came striding in. A white sack hung over his shoulder.

"Hey, Edwards! Right on time!"

"Heard y'all wanted some mail." Edwards grinned as he dropped the mail bag down. About a third of the sack looked full, and he released a deep breath as he dropped it. "Sirs, ma'am."

Klinger signed for it, and introduced them. "Captains Pierce and Hunnicutt. Major O'Hara." Then he turned to the surgeons. "This is Sergeant Jerry Edwards, new mailman for us and the 8063rd."

"A pleasure," BJ said.

"Pleasure's mine. I like knowing the people I'll be helping!" Edwards turned to leave. He paused and turned back around as he remembered something. "There's gonna be more tomorrow. They just hadn't finished sorting it."

"Right, thanks, man. Catch you 'round the 38th Parallel!" Klinger turned back around as the door shut behind Edwards. The white mail bag lay on the floor, slumped. He picked it up. "First thing I'm doing when this is over is taking another nap."

"Anything for me?" BJ huddled near Klinger. He tried to peer into the bag alongside Hawkeye.

"Keep your hands off!" Klinger swatted them with a letter. "This is official!" He dumped the bag onto his desk and pushed them away. "Go away, go away, go away."

"Klinger! It's mail!"

"That, I know. I may be dumb, but I'm not blind. You'll get yours when you get it."

Nellie watched them in amusement. As they fought over the bag, she snuck out of the office. The rain clouds she had spotted earlier on the horizon now loomed ominously close. She held her vodka close as she hurried across camp. Most of the people she saw hurried to do the same and hide out of the whipping wind and rapidly approaching rainstorm.


	25. T*W*E*N*T*Y F*O*U*R

The mail brought her two letters, one from Molly and one from the staff of Johns Hopkins. Her mouth dried as she thought about opening the one from her friend. So Nellie stuck both in the corner of her drawer and only after dinner did she consider opening them.

 

Just as she went to open the one from her former colleagues, a knock interrupted her. "Come in!" She turned to see who it was.

 

Hawkeye, BJ, and Klinger all stood at the door. The foremost bowed dramatically. Behind them she could see dark clouds covering the sky.

 

"Mademoiselle, we have come to ask you to the beautiful home of the surgeons for a drink and a good time." 

 

Nellie smirked. "Oh? What for."

 

"Are we so uncouth that it would seem unlikely that we'd desire the presence of a beautiful young woman?"

 

"Uncouth?" Klinger looked between them in confusion.

 

BJ turned to him. "Lacking good manners."

 

"Ah."

 

"Hm," Nellie mused. Before she responded, she pulled on her fatigue button down over her tank top. Just in case rain hit. "Right then, lead the way."

 

Camp seemed deserted. Dinner had ended half an hour before, and the Mess Tent emptied. Thanks to the rain clouds, not much light lit the camp. Only the lamplight helped. Her watch read 21:00 hours.

 

Charles penned a letter as they entered the Swamp. He only looked up once at their entrance. "Ah, Major. Happy birthday."

 

"Thank you."

 

"Well if your little soirré is beginning, then so too does my shift in Post Op." He stood and nodded to Nellie. "Major."

 

She smiled back and waved, taking a seat on the end of Hawkeye's bunk. The others took their own seats. Hawkeye sat himself on the other part of his cot while Klinger took the chair and BJ his own bed. 

 

"You really are uncouth if you don't pour me a drink." Nellie turned to Hawkeye as he handed one to BJ. 

 

"Why do people have to use big words like that! Here, pass that to me." Klinger grabbed a drink and handed it to Nellie. He then took one for himself. 

 

Nellie downed a big drink. She coughed, scrunching her face up in disgust. "Wow." Holding it out, Hawkeye refilled it.

 

"We aged it well," said BJ.

 

"Well might not be the word I would use. This could murder someone if you aren't careful." 

 

Hawkeye laughed at her. "And yet you drink."

 

This time, the laugh came from Klinger. For several hours, they sat and played poker. At one point, Hawkeye pulled out the checkerboard and 

Set up little glasses of gin instead of pieces. At that point, Klinger had to leave, thoroughly buzzed and beyond exhausted. 

 

At two in the morning, BJ and Hawkeye were in the final round of their three person tournament of drinking checkers. To Hawk's right, Nellie had fallen asleep on his cot. 

 

"Crown me!" Hawkeye downed the cup and had BJ refill it. Then they stuck an olive inside.

 

BJ huffed. "You're better at this than chess."

 

"Fool, I was born to win this game." He rubbed his hands together. "Trap and I played all the time."

 

A pause hung in the air. Pieces traded places and the game continued on. After BJ made a move, he drummed on his knees. Then he gestured next to Hawkeye.

 

"So. Are you two…"

 

They both turned towards Nellie's sleeping form. Her chest rose and fell where she'd curled up planning to watch the game, but instead fell asleep. Hawkeye shrugged.

 

"My good fellow, the pursuit is half the game!"

 

"Game?" BJ's smirk grew as he stuck his toothpick back in his mouth. He jumped two of Hawkeye's pieces. "So that's what she is?"

 

"Focus on your pieces, Beej. This is the game."

 

"Right."

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

"Nothing!"

 

"Nothing. Right." Hawkeye drummed his fingers on his knee. He moved one of his drink pieces. "Of course it's nothing!"

 

BJ shrugged. "Just because you look at her like I used to look at Peg-"

 

"I hear what you're implying and I deny it. Forcefully."

 

Another two of Hawkeye's pieces got swallowed up by his jump. BJ smirked at him. "Focus on the game, Hawk."

 

"I'm strictly a one night man," Hawkeye added. "Maybe a second if she's good."

 

"Of course, of course. I'm sorry."

 

"Yeah."

 

"So why have you only been flirting with her and not the rest of camp?"

 

Hawkeye put his martini glass down and glared at him. "Listen, fella. I don't need you playing matchmaker. I need you to make your next move!"

 

"Hawk."

 

"What?"

 

"It's your turn."

 

The board was almost empty of his pieces. Somehow BJ had managed to crown most of his own glasses, and eradicate the rest of his. Hawkeye couldn't hide his surprise. After a moment, he moved one glass to the left.

 

"I can flirt however and with whoever I want. Sorry if you feel left out these days," Hawkeye bit back.

 

BJ just chuckled. "So whoever is Nellie, then."

 

"Yes. Because she's fun to annoy."

 

"And you get good kisses out of it and maybe more. You're both just afraid of commitment." BJ watched as Hawkeye drew himself up. Taking one of his crowned gin glasses, he jumped two of Hawk's remaining three pieces. "Checkmate."

 

"Wrong game, genius."

 

"I didn't mean the board."

 

Hawkeye stared across their board. His stupid smirk beneath his stupid mustache further irritated him. Moments later, the game was over as BJ finished him off. 

 

"She's out like a light," BJ commented.

 

Hawkeye gave a short laugh. "We filled her with enough gin, that's for sure."

 

Suddenly they saw the light in Klinger's office go on. Hawkeye looked at BJ. When Klinger himself marched across the compound in a pink fluffy nightgown, yawning and muttering to himself, they just chuckled. Hawkeye stood from the cot and wandered to the window. 

 

"Should we just leave her there?" Hawkeye turned back when Klinger entered the Colonel's tent.

 

"People might talk."

 

With a laugh, Hawkeye just shrugged. "When does she not inspire rumors already?"

 

"Fair point." Then BJ smirked at him. "And I don't think you have the heart to wake her up."

 

The glare Hawkeye sent him made BJ laugh. But Hawk didn't respond beyond that. So he just resigned himself to giving Nellie his bunk and taking the spare for himself. Moments later, when Charles walked in, they forced him to be quiet and accept the sleepover. No one stirred the rest of the night.

 

When Nellie pulled herself to consciousness, the pounding in her head reminded her everything she needed to know about the previous night. They'd had a mini birthday party for her. She'd played some poker, lost about ten dollars, and then lost again at the Drunk Checkers. But what did surprise her was that she woke up not in her quarters, but in the Swamp.

 

Across from her, Hawkeye slept with his arm over his eyes. She realized she'd taken his cot, and heat flushed her cheeks. Still, unlike college, she realized she felt no threat from these men. BJ was gone, probably in Post Op, if she remembered the schedule correctly. But Charles's red satin pillow lay very much occupied.

 

A groan escaped her as she sat up and looked outside. Damn the sun. The puddles from last night's rain had mostly dried, except for a few here and there. Nellie stood and grabbed her forehead, wobbling slightly. The room spun to the left for a moment. 

 

With a hiss, she stumbled to the door. At the same moment, Klinger rapped on it. Nellie groaned as he opened the door, holding her head like it was going to fall off.

 

"Major!" 

 

"Corporal if you say something loud one more time I will personally put you on report."

 

"Yes oh wrathful, hungover one." He lowered his voice. "Colonel wants Hawkeye in his office."

 

"Why?"

 

"Something about leaving him in charge? He called a chopper to Kimpo to go to Tokyo General. Or that's what I think I remember from my booze filled sleep walking."

 

"Right."

 

"Did you have fun, Major?" He winked. "Hawkeye looks beat."

 

"If by fun you mean I drank too much, lost money, and then slept till dawn, then yes. If by fun you mean extra fun, then the answer is no, and I suggest you get your head out of the gutter."

 

"Yes sir! Ma'am."

 

Nellie pushed past him, leaving Klinger to wake Hawkeye up. Nurses Betty Garlem and Shelley Lacey waved at her on their way to the showers. Though she returned the favor, all she could think of was changing and then grabbing a cup of coffee.

 

Her stomach tossed too much for food as she entered the Mess tent that morning. Bypassing the line, Nellie went straight for the coffee machine. The incessant chatter of the tent hurt her head immensely. She took up a spot at their regular table, the first one to do so.

 

"Good morning!" Mulcahy's voice echoed in her ears as he sat down moments later.

 

Nellie whipped out her hand, stopping him. Instead she took a long, deep drink of coffee. Today's batched tasted off even more than usual, but she needed the caffeine. It scalded the roof of her mouth. Finally, she nodded. "Sorry, Father."

 

He just smiled. "No apologies necessary, Major. Klinger told me you four were going to celebrate your birthday yesterday. If I had more of a stomach for anything but sacramental wine, I might have joined you!"

 

"Their gin is awful."

 

"And yet, people still drink it. Strange, isn't it?"

 

Nellie hummed in agreement. Another gulp of coffee down, still no less pained by her headache. "Say a prayer for my head, Father. It might fall right off."

 

Father Mulcahy laughed quietly. "Always. Just don't make getting this drunk a habit."

 

"I doubt she plans on becoming a nun."

 

They both looked up as BJ joined them. He still wore his white lab coat, a pencil in the right pocket. As Father Mulcahy laughed at BJ's joke, she just continued sipping on the drink.

 

"How'd you sleep," he asked.

 

Nellie snorted, putting her mug down. "You two didn't have the courage to wake me?"

 

"Hawkeye didn't have the heart." At Father's questioning look, he continued. "She fell asleep during our Drunk Checkers game and Hawkeye had to forfeit his cot."

 

"Can't wait for the newest rumors to spread."

 

BJ laughed. "You certainly do have a gift for creating conversation."

 

"How are you not hungover?"

 

"I guess I just hold my liquor better."

 

"Not true, but you can tell yourself that."

 

Father Mulcahy waved to someone across the Mess Tent. At the sight of blonde hair, they waited for Margaret to reach them. Unlike Nellie, her hair was perfectly set, curled at the bottom neatly.

 

"Good morning."

 

Nellie muttered into her mug. "Debatable." 

 

But Margaret didn't seem to catch her snark. As the table descended into discussion about Potter's sudden departure, Nellie closed her eyes. One drink, two, her head slowly began to recover. She hated hangovers.

 

 


	26. T*W*E*N*T*Y F*I*V*E

Two days of "Colonel" Hawkeye, and Nellie was starting to hope for Potter back. It wasn't that the camp didn't run smoothly. But she found herself missing the man himself. His sturdy presence, even if she didn't interact with him much, seemed like a rock in the ever-changing MASH unit. Besides, she'd had enough of Charles's constant complaining about being passed over for leadership.

Hawkeye and Klinger had explained to the staff that the Colonel had been needed at Tokyo General Hospital. Briefly Nellie's thoughts drifted to Major Lauren Huntsman, one of the other Athena Project women. She had been stationed at Tokyo General. Besides him going for a sick friend, they hadn't heard much else.

"C'mon Major!"

Nellie turned. Bigelow's voice forced her from her thoughts and back to the current challenge. She'd been roped into shooting a basketball. The ball careened into her chest and she grabbed it with a grunt. "My turn?"

"Yeah."

Frowning, she went to pawn the ball off on someone else. But Kellye, Gwen, Shelley, and Bigelow stood there with arms crossed.

"Fine." She put her feet in the proper position and vaulted the ball forward. It hit the backboard. "Damn!"

Shelley laughed. "You weren't kidding. You're not very good at this."

"You could have the courtesy to let me fail in peace."

Kellye smirked as she took the ball. "Is that an order?"

Scoffing, Nellie nodded. "I have half a mind to make it one."

The ball zipped through the net with a gentle woosh. The other nurses cheered, and Nellie just bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. But a few moments later, an odd chorus of voices caused them all to turn. Just as BJ and Hawkeye walked by, they found what could only be described as a horde of Korean children walking into camp following an older, white woman.

"We're looking for some doctors!" she said quickly.

"What a coincidence. We're looking for some patients." The smile that had settled on Hawkeye's face only grew as more kids came in.

BJ asked what the matter was. The others moved over, quickly checking the children for injuries. The youngest looked about four and the oldest maybe thirteen. Nellie stood before a girl on the older end of the spectrum. As Nurse Betty Halpern, they learned her name was, explained, the children were refugees from a village which had been shelled a few days prior.

"I'm taking them south to safety, but we had to hide out in some farmland and they got scratched up somethin' bad."

Nellie held out her hands, palms up. The girl's face never changed from resolute stoicism. Her brown eyes looked into her own blue ones. Nellie cracked a smile. The girl flinched back as she pushed her hair back and checked her neck. Several cuts trailed down the girl's skin.

"We need to inoculate them for tetanus."

Nurse Betty looked at them and frowned. "Is that really necessary?"

Hawkeye agreed with BJ's assessment. With a nod and a smile, Nurse Betty turned to the kids and spoke in Korean. The language sounded like a song to Nellie's ears. She'd admired it since coming to Korea. Together with the doctors and several nurses, they took the children to the Mess Tent.

The children followed Nurse Betty like ducklings. Before long they were situated in the Mess Tent and BJ went to find Charles to get their supplies ready. By now, a dozen of the nurses crowded into the tent to help, along with Father Mulcahy.

Nellie stayed quiet, watching them. She had never felt entirely comfortable around young children; they always behaved in ways she didn't expect. Her mother had laughed when she'd explained this. Apparently her mother hadn't known what to do with Nellie as a child either, given her penchant for acting contrary to most girls her age. And of course, the behavior had only been egged on by her dad and brother.

Most of the boys acted rambunctious enough, despite their upbringing in a wartorn country. As the minutes ticked by and the waiting dragged on, the kids began to run around. Their screaming and little shrieks as they dodged capture put Nellie on edge. But a few of the older girls and boys stood more quietly. The one Nellie had seen to earlier stood with them.

She walked over to them. The two girls and one boy eyed her warily. But she showed her palms yet again. Then with a deep breath to comfort herself, she gestured inward. "Nellie."

They didn't respond. One of the girls had hair to her shoulders, and the one from earlier had straight black hair down almost to her waist. They really were quite beautiful. Just as Nellie went to give up, they seemed to calm down.

"Sook." The girl Nellie had helped gestured to herself. "Sook." Then she gestured forward. "Nellie." The pronunciation came out strangely, but it got the point across.

Nellie grinned. "Nellie."

The other girl shot her a tiny smile. Pointing at herself, she said, "Sang-Hee."

"Daeshim." The boy set his feet firm, arms crossed. The wariness didn't fade even as he gave his name.

The screeches and pounding of little feet continued to fill the Mess Tent. BJ and Charles handed out several test needles, and finally came to her. Nellie nodded with a smile and took her batch. The kids would be getting a miniature dose to check for allergies. Setting herself down at her usual Mess Tent table, Betty Halpern came over and explained to them in Korean what would be happening.

The injections didn't take long at all. Soon the youngest were running in circles and the oldest standing and glaring. Nellie closed her eyes for a moment and tried to picture her apartment back home. Quiet, neat, warm. The Mess Tent only had one of the three.

"Everybody pipe down!"

She opened her eyes at Nurse Betty's shout and smiled. Sook stood before her. The girl gestured to her arm. A rough, red patch had formed on the injection site. Nellie frowned. Sang-Hee and Daeshim had the same problems, as did the other four she had helped.

"Hawk-"

"They're all reacting," he confirmed.

Charles turned to them. "We'll have to dilute."

"Why? What's the matter?" Nurse Betty frowned. She sat at BJ and Hawkeye's table, looking after the children carefully.

"Full scale inoculations could put them into shock."

Margaret walked over, a young girl in her arms. She shrugged. "I'll make arrangements for them to sleep overnight."

"Good thing Post Op's clear," said Nellie quickly. She walked over and placed the medicine bottles in Hawkeye's table. "They should fit there."

Together with BJ, Nellie helped move the serum bottles back to storage. She took a deep breath as they left the Mess Tent. The sun had set a few minutes before, and a handful of stars peeked through cloud cover. Despite the stench of the garbage dump they walked past, it was an enjoyable evening.

Nellie slipped in the door to the lab. She chewed on her lip as they set the bottles of serum on the table. "Why would they all be allergic?"

"Good question."

"Some? Sure. But all? The odds of that are fairly small."

They opened the door to the large refrigerator. BJ began to stack his containers with a sigh. "You're not wrong."

"No theories?"

BJ chuckled. "Just hand me the rest." As Nellie handed him the next small crate of vials, he shrugged. "No theories yet. But regardless, we dilute starting tomorrow."

She huffed. With the last crate put away, they closed up the lab. By the time they finished, Hawkeye, Margaret, and the nursing staff had started putting the kids to bed. Post Op rang with the giggling shrieks of young children. As they entered, Klinger passed them holding a particularly pretty young girl. He told her a story, but Nellie didn't catch it.

While BJ helped Margaret corral a little boy, Nellie stood at the Nurse's desk and watched the others. The little boy Hawkeye wrestled with couldn't have been over six. But the smile on Hawkeye's face was the real reward. It seemed somehow more genuine than other times. BJ, Hawkeye, and Margaret treated the kids wonderfully. Even a fool could see how great of a father BJ would make once he got back home. But Hawkeye, mister one-night-stand flirtation extraordinaire, seemed at home with the kids too. Seeing the others so happy filled her own heart.

For a small moment, the war faded. Here she could see the true colors of her friends. Warm, caring, loving. Margaret's hard-nosed attitude disappeared. Hawkeye's trust issues disappeared. BJ's gentleness only multiplied. Here in Post Op, a room usually quiet and solemn, they now had a place where innocence was allowed not just to be, but grow. Though these kids had seen the worst of life so young, they laughed and they played.

Someone flipped the lights off. The medical staff left the room, most by way of Klinger's office. But Nellie stayed where she was, watching the kids drift off to sleep. Beacons of hope in a dark world. That's all she could think of them as. As the last person left Post Op, Nellie turned and followed.

When the door to the hospital closed behind her, she paused and closed her eyes. Silence. Only the steady chorus of crickets and the slight buzz of the overhead lamp filled the air. A breeze blew from the West.

"You look stunning under that regulation light bulb."

At the sound of Hawkeye's voice, she tried desperately to force down her unbidden smirk. She opened her eyes. He stood next to the door, leaning against the hospital wall. The light above the door cast shadows around them. With another deep breath, Nellie shrugged.

"As I recall, you already tried that line."

"Yeah, well, I got a drink out of it last time."

"You got a drink out of it because I felt bad I snapped at you."

Hawkeye shrugged dramatically and smiled. "Ah well. You can snap at me again if you want."

"Hm. No, I think it's time for bed."

"I can come with you."

Nellie looked up at him. He had fallen into step next to her as she strolled across the compound. Her heart raced for a moment and she bit her tongue to stop the emotions. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"I'm in charge, I could order you to grab a drink with me?"

The laugh she released sounded across the compound. Nellie covered her mouth and shook her head. "Sorry. As for that statement, don't forget, I'm still a Major."

"A Major Darling, sure."

"You are a child." Again, he flashed his infernal smile between shrugs. So she relented. "Your attempts are getting more creative. But. It's not going to work."

They stood in front of the Swamp. BJ and Charles were penning letters inside to the light of their bed lamps. With a sweeping gesture, he pointed to the door. But she shook her head with a smile.

"Good night, Hawkeye."

As the breeze picked up, Nellie left the door to the Swamp for her own tent. A rat the size of a dog skittered under the basketball hoop. She cringed. Rats. But inside her tent, it was safe. Quiet, clean, safe. Or as clean as one could get in Korea at a MASH unit. With a quick glance at the letter from Molly that still sat on her desk, unopened, she got ready for bed.


	27. T*W*E*N*T*Y S*I*X

She missed breakfast the next morning. Instead, Nellie spent time in Post Op with the kids, and then made her way to her favorite spot on the Upper Chopper Pad. The morning had dawned clear and relatively cool, a blessing compared to the last week's heat wave. Her stomach didn't want to spoil the mood with Mess Tent food where no doubt powdered eggs and spam awaited them.

So she sat and she read. With each turn of the page, Nellie let herself forget the war. She forgot about the artillery that often beat like thunder in the distance. She forgot about the rats the size of cats which skittered about at night and each morning. She forgot about the spam, and the eggs, and the burnt toast. Instead she saw little half height people and dwarfs- no, dwarves, he spelled it- and legends of golden treasure under a dragon's wing.

The sound of a Jeep pulled her from the book. She closed it, remembering her page, and looked down at the hospital. Colonel Potter appeared. With a small smile, she tucked her book under one arm and started down the steps. By the time she'd returned her book to her tent, Colonel Potter had already left the hospital and went to find breakfast.

"Major, package for you – if you want to grab it before I start rounds?"

She turned to see Klinger waving from the door to his office. "Thanks!" Nellie changed course to join him. "What's that smell?" As she entered his office, a fragrance like floral perfume wafted her way.

Klinger grinned. He picked up a letter. Closing his eyes, he ran it under his nose and hummed. "That would be a letter from my cousin Fatima. It's jasmine."

"Smells like home, then?"

"It's a better smell than Toledo after dark, that's for sure."

With a laugh, Nellie nodded. Baltimore hadn't smelled any better, she was sure. A bag of letters sat on the clerk's desk. But no package. "Where's the package?"

"Over there." Klinger gestured to a brown box on the ground. It was fairly large. "Do you need help?"

She reached down and looked at the label. Worn and scratched, she barely made out to the to-from. When she picked it up, she grunted. "Good Lord. What's in this?"

"Beats me! I'm just glad I'm not the one lugging it around Korea. The Colonel's package was enough trouble."

"What'd he get?"

"He wouldn't tell me! He threatened to wring my neck if I asked any more questions. Colonel's in a bad mood though, so stay out of his way."

Nellie frowned. Adjusting the box, she turned to the door. Then she looked back. "Right. Thanks."

The door snapped open as she pushed her way through. Looking over the box wasn't easy. The Colonel burst out of the Mess Tent as she walked past. With a tiny wave, all she could manage, she greeted him. The nod he sent in response didn't reassure her.

"Watch out!"

Shari's warning came just in time as three young boys raced in front of her. Nellie gasped. With a dramatic roll of her eyes, she waited for them to pass with the dog they chased. Her tent wasn't far.

The balancing act she pulled off to open her tent door would've impressed anyone, had anyone been around to see it. Throwing it on the bed, she caught her breath. It sliced open easily with her scissors. On the top, a letter rested. It bore Jack's handwriting.

_"Dear Nellie,_

_"Happy birthday! You're one year older, which is crazy. I swear just yesterday we went out to the bar and drank to you leaving med school. I got your first letter yesterday, and packed this up to send you today. I hope that guy Hawkeye doesn't cause you any trouble, or I'll come to Korea and kick his ass myself._

_"I've missed you terribly since you left six months ago. But getting your letters makes all the difference. I know you can't send me a tape recording on a woman's pay, but my buddy Jason pitched in and we bought you a machine to play things we tape here! The one good thing the Nazis left us._

_"Be careful setting it up. Don't break it._

_"Love, Jack."_

Nellie pulled the machine out from under the packaging. She'd seen tape recorders at Johns Hopkins. A real marvel. Now she had one for herself. It fit right next to her desk, elevated off the ground temporarily by a crate. She plugged it in. The wheels turned. And then she heard him.

"Happy birthday! Again! Hopefully you read the letter. It's been tough without you here, but I'm hoping it's easier for you over there. Somehow I doubt it. I remember how terrible war is." A pause followed. "But you know that. Anyways, just wanted to tell you that all your colleagues at Johns say hi. Sarah Darling wanted to be on this recording but I said it was for me only. Captain's privilege. And even if i wasn't the ranking person in your group of friends, I'd play the older brother card." He laughed, and another pause followed. "While you're there, watch out for snipers. And rats. Their fleas'll kill you. And be careful of dysentery. Yes I know you know, but I need to say this since Dad and Mom can't. I'm running out of space, Nell. Keep safe, please. I've lost so many people. I can't lose you, too."

"You won't lose me." Nellie's heart constricted at her brother's plea. She could hear the pain in his voice beneath the laughs. It had taken so much strength for him to let her go, she had never found a way to properly thank him for it.

"Break a few noses for me, yeah? I know you can handle yourself. But war is a different beast altogether and you need to be prepared to do what is necessary. Just don't do anything stupid." He paused and then laughed. "I'm rambling again. God bless you, Nellie O'Hara. See you soon."

"See you soon."

The promise escaped her before she could even process the click at the end of the tape. Her knees buckled and she sat on her bed. Her heart raced. With each beat, questions rose. Had she been right to leave him? Had she been right to risk his life and sanity by heading into a warzone? Nellie grabbed her face in her hands and leaned on her knees.

A knock on her door jolted Nellie upright. She took a deep breath, counted to five, and then opened it. Klinger stood there. In his hands were manila letter sized envelopes.

"Here, Major. From our beloved peach of a Colonel."

"What?"

"Don't ask. These are for the other five little piggies."

Nellie's face scrunched up in confusion. She took the letter he offered and opened it. As Klinger started away, she followed him slowly.

"You are invited to my tent tomorrow at 1900 hours. Cordially, Sherman Potter. P.S. that's an order."

Nellie wandered into the Lab after Klinger. He handed out the letters one by one to the other surgeons where they sat playing with serums.

"Undoubtedly a commendation for the outstandingly average manner in which I led this camp upon his absence."

"Wrong, defrocked chieftain. All the indians got them, even me a lowly brave." Klinger pulled up his next one. "Hunnicutt, BJ."

"The plot thickens."

"Winchester, Charles E."

The man's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He took the letter from Klinger and opened it. "What's it say?"

"I don't know and I read mine."

As they all read their letters, both Margaret and Father Mulcahy came in flashing their own. Upon rereading, the letter's meaning didn't clear even a bit. But Klinger explained the Colonel had gotten a package from some lawyers, handed out the letters, and then locked himself away.

"Lawyers?" Hawkeye looked around at the others, his expression grave. "Divorce?"

Margaret immediately objected, and they all agreed it would be stupid. Mildred Potter wouldn't do that, even Nellie knew from what she'd heard of their relationship.

Hawkeye tried again. "Maybe a tax problem?"

"Or a will?"

The entire room went silent for a split second. Then everyone exploded into objections. Nellie just watched in concern as they debated Charles's comment. He pointed out that if the visit to Tokyo for a sick friend had been an excuse for Potter to get himself checked, it would explain the man's mood, the lawyers, and the notes they'd received.

"I pray I'm assessing the information incorrectly-"

"Whatever it is, we'll deal with it." Hawkeye cut Charles off and looked around carefully. With a tight grip on the box of serums in his hand, he nodded. "He'll tell us in his own way, I'm sure."

Padre grimaced. "Maybe he is."

They spent the day distributing medicine to the children. Ten shots each, one every two hours. The smaller doses would avoid the risk of shock setting in. They alternated between entertaining the Korean boys and girls, and taking breaks from what Charles called the "Munchkin Horde" with time spent in the Officers' Club.

Nellie kept her eye on Hawkeye. Every movement he made looked more tense, more calculated. The usual flow in his step had turned to a mournful dragging. The quips lessened, and the jokes slowed. Her heart broke for him, and for the others. But it said a lot to her about the kind of man Colonel Potter was. The fact that the most ardent Army lover, Margaret, and most staunch Army hater, Hawkeye, both stressed over him… it got her thinking.

At 0300 hours, Nellie's alarm rang. She got up and pulled her new kimono over her pajamas. The nursing staff had pitched in to get it for her for her birthday. Crafted of genuine red silk and decorated with white and dark pink flowers, she had absolutely fallen in love with it. With a yawn, she left her tent and headed to give the kids their next injections.

Nurse Betty sat with the tired children in Post Op. The one Klinger had been calling Rita lay crying in her arms. Nellie frowned. But upon seeing her walk in, Nurse Betty just smiled down at Rita and whispered in Korean.

"I'll be right back with the serums," Nellie whispered. She passed the Nurse's Desk and went through into the clerical office as quietly as she could. But to her surprise, Klinger sat writing at the desk. "What are you doing up?"

"Hey Major." He yawned, and put down his pencil. Then he stood up. "Want help?"

"Sure."

Klinger followed her back into Post Op. She had him carry the box of little bottles while she administered the drug. It hurt her a little to have to wake up the children for midnight sticks of the needle. Before long, all eighteen children were inoculated, and Nellie sent Klinger back to his office with the bottles.

"Thanks for doing this," Nurse Betty said. She flashed a gentle smile in the dark of the Post Op.

Nellie just shrugged. "You've got the tough job."

She softened the blow of the closing door. The bugs chirped incessantly. Her footsteps led her past the Swamp. Suddenly a large furry rat ran past her feet and she gasped. "Damn! Stupid rats."

While she tried to slow her heart rate, she stood in the center of the compound. Her breathing began to slow. From the right came a yawn. Hawkeye dragged his feet across the compound, wrapped in his burgundy bathrobe, hair wet and towel slung over his shoulder.

"It's three am, what are you doing up?" Nellie tried to keep her voice low. "You should be sleeping."

"With you? Okay."

The flirtation rolled off his tongue before he even acknowledged her. But it felt different. The usual tease in his voice had disappeared.

Finally he shrugged. "Did you know there's warm water at three am?"

"No. But it doesn't surprise me since no one is showering this early."

Hawkeye grinned. "I am."

"You're worried about the Colonel," she said. Her tone left no room for objection. "We'll find out tonight what's wrong."

"You don't understand. Henry died, and we got Potter. Potter has been just about the best replacement we could've asked for. He's…He's somehow like my dad, despite being different." Hawkeye kicked a rock in anger. "The war keeps taking. I'm sick of it!"

Nellie suppressed a humorless laugh. "I know what you mean."

Hawkeye began to gesture with his hands, barely managing to keep his voice low. "This place stinks. It's hell. There is nothing good here, and never will be. Potter's allowed us to make things a little better."

Nellie grabbed his hand on impulse. Jack used to get fired up in the same way. Physical touch had helped him then. She said nothing, just held on. His breathing started slowing down.

"At least Potter doesn't have to face this alone." She gently smiled at him. "He has friends."

He nodded. Then he looked down at where she held his hand and he smirked. "Never knew you cared."

"Don't ever question that." The words came out harsher than intended, even as she dropped the grip. What Hawkeye joked about hit too close to home. She folded her arms and turned away for a moment. Then she sighed. "I need sleep."

"You're telling me." Hawkeye yawned again. "See you in a few hours."


	28. T*W*E*N*T*Y S*E*V*E*N

The children left after dinner. Nurse Betty thanked them profusely for all the help they'd given her. Her gratitude filled them all with tremendous joy, and though she had nothing to give them in return, all agreed that the mere presence of the kids had done enough for morale. The break in wounded would soon end, no doubt. They would cling to the hope the children had provided for as long as possible.

But with the departure of the children came the impending meeting with the Colonel. Klinger told them he'd been listening to old French records, the kind from the first world war. Fear over Colonel Potter increased with every passing hour.

At 2100 hours, the whole staff stood outside his tent. Nellie stayed in the back. Honored to have been included, but a bit unsure as to what she'd done to be elevated to the status of the others, she kept quiet. Hawkeye led the way, as usual. But he halted several paces from the door. The light from inside the Colonel's tent shown through the mostly covered window flaps. Hawkeye turned back.

"Well… here we are."

"Sure are." BJ glanced at the door, and then back at the others.

"We can probably...just go in."

Klinger sighed. "Maybe we're early?"

Hawkeye agreed immediately and moved away from the door. But Margaret stood in his way. She wrung her hands.

"I, I uh want to know but I - I don't want to know… you know?"

"I know."

"Someone should knock." Charles drew himself up. But despite his words, he made no movement forward. His feet remained glued to the ground, and his hands stayed in his pockets.

Finally, Father Mulcahy stepped forward. He nodded. "Well… alright." They parted as he walked up to the door. With brief hesitation, he knocked.

Colonel Potter stood in the doorway as it opened. Nellie could hear him greeting them as each stepped inside. When at last it came to her, her eyebrow raised involuntarily. The Colonel wore a brown uniform. Cavalry, if she remembered correctly. It looked to be made of something akin to tweed, with a wide brimmed hat on top.

"I'm glad you came too, Major."

She shook his outstretched hand cautiously. It felt warm to the touch, worn from hours of labor in the OR and on the battlefield. Nellie maneuvered herself into the left corner, beside Klinger. The three chairs had been occupied by Hawkeye, BJ, and Margaret, while Charles and Father Mulcahy stood behind.

Even as Colonel Potter went to speak, Margaret grabbed him in a tight hug, tears on her cheeks. Nellie had never seen that sort of emotion from her. It made her own lip tighten.

"What's with her?" Potter looked at them in confusion.

Hawkeye just wrung his hands and looked up at the man in concern. "I'd do the same if I didn't think you'd slug me."

"We're worries about you, Colonel," BJ added.

Charles nodded. "Rest assured, Colonel, you have our complete and total support."

Klinger and Padre agreed immediately with them. Nellie remained quiet, unsure of what to do. She cared for the Colonel, but not in the way these others did. But watching their total devotion, even Charles who acted like he cared for no one, moved her to tears.

"Thanks. I appreciate it, I suppose. But if you'll all put the tear ducts on simmer, I'll lay out the whole story." He took a deep breath and pursed his lips. "Now I'm sure you're all wonderin' about the old fashion get up."

"Now that you mention it."

Potter sent Hawkeye a short nod. "It was a long time ago… we were in France, under a heavy artillery barrage. My buddies and I laid low in old French château." He cracked a tiny smile, but his eyes watered. "We were quite a group, the five of us. Went through hell together and lived to get drunk."

He showed them a photo of his group. Nellie held it last, as he went on to tell about the night they'd spent drinking, and singing, and laughing in World War One. While shells rained down, they'd drunk to stay sane. The picture had grayed some, but she could still make out the much younger Sherman Potter.

"Then, we got down to the last bottle." Colonel Potter held up a bottle of red wine and his voice broke. "This, this bottle here. The five of us made a pledge. We'd let some legal eagle stow it, and whoever was the last survivor would get it, and drink a toast to the rest." With tears on the edge of breaking, his lips quivered. But he maintained his poise. "For better or worse, you're looking at the last surviving member. I got the job when Gresky passed in Tokyo. He had the bottle sent here… God rest his soul."

Nellie watched as the whole room relaxed. Shoulders and jaw unclenched as breaths were released. Charles grabbed at his chest lightly, and Hawkeye nearly coughed out a laugh. But Nellie felt her heart clenching more. He'd lost so much. He'd fought the same war as Jack, and a whole war before that. The fact he could stand there and tell his story astounded her.

As Hawkeye tried to explain that they'd all thought he'd been sick, Colonel Potter let out a small chuckle. But his voice broke as he responded. "I was sick! Just thinking how my friends are all gone now. Felt sorry for myself too, gettin' up in years." He sighed. Then he nodded. "But I'm looking at things a bit different now. I've been a very lucky man. Had some wondrous, joyous times." Colonel Potter paused to collect himself as his voice quavered.

The room fell silent. Nellie could've sworn the others could hear her heart beat. But no one moved, so captured by the Colonel's speech and melancholy.

"But." He drew himself up. "As much as my old friends mean to me, I think you new friends mean even more." He ignores the tears on the others' faces as he grabbed the bottle and opened it. "So, I'd like you to share this bottle with me."

"We'd be honored." Hawkeye didn't even hesitate, standing and speaking through his tears.

He and Margaret passed out the shot glasses, filling them with some wine each. Nellie's chest constricted as Hawkeye handed her a glass. She touched his hand and hesitated. But she couldn't raise her eyes to any of them. It reminded her so much of the toast Jack led each birthday to his fallen war buddies. She felt it, physically, the loss and the pain that loss caused.

Colonel Potter made the first toast solo, naming each of his four wat buddies. The first had died in the Great War, and the second in World War Two. The third and fourth had survived them, with Gresky dying most recently at Tokyo General. With each name he said, his voice wavered. Finally, he drank.

"That was the old. Now for the new." He raised his half full glass. "To love, and friendship."

They clinked glasses. Nellie, last of all to join, hesitated in the middle briefly. Her mind and heart both raced. If the night had reminded her of anything, it was the fragility of time. Jack had told her time and again, don't wait. Seize each moment. That's why she's gone to Korea. That's why she'd worked so hard for everything.

The wine went down smoothly, a gentle fruity flavor with an aftertaste to savor for as long as possible. Silence hung in the air, palpable between each member of the toast. After several moments, Potter cleared his throat.

"Right. Now. Get out of my tent so I can take this damn outfit off."

Though it was said fiercely, they caught his humor. Everyone laughed, and bid him goodnight. Charles left first, leading the way out, and Nellie followed close behind.

Her heart still pounded in her chest. Though she made to all but run away, she found herself stopping about twenty paces from the tent. She turned back in time to find Hawkeye and BJ strolling out together in silence. They caught up with her momentarily. But she still couldn't make herself leave. A deep, anxious pit had settled in her stomach.

Hawkeye turned back around and looked at her in concern. "Have you decided to be the Statue of Liberty? Klinger beat you to it already."

"One date." She had blurted out the words before she even realized what she'd said.

"What?"

BJ's eyebrows shot up and then he grinned. "Right then. I'll leave you two to talk." He turned away with a small laugh and kept walking.

"What did you say?" Hawkeye's grin grew as he backtracked the few feet to her.

Nellie huffed. Heat rose to her face, and she could feel herself blushing. "You heard what I said."

"No, I know. But I want to hear you say it again." He laughed at the indignation on her face. With a shout and a laugh, Hawkeye ducked away from the light smack she sent him. "Don't hurt me!"

"One."

"That's all I ask. And I didn't even have to get you pizza." With a grin he winked down at her. "Sure you're ready to admit you fell for me to the public?"

"I am allowing you one date with me."

"Sure, sure." Hawkeye laughed as he backed away towards his tent. "I'll pick you up in my car, we'll go for a spin down to Rosie's. The cesspool is beautiful this time of year."

Nellie smiled at his jokes. "Just don't put the top down. I hate what the wind does to my hair."

With a laugh, he turned away and walked back to the Swamp. Her tent was further. With each step, she debated over and over in her mind if it's been the right decision. Seize the day, Jack had said. And she'd seen how friends came and went, and how precious a true companion was.

When she entered her tent and locked the door behind her, her eyes fell on the letter from Molly. Unopened, it still sat in the corner of her desk. Speaking of friends, she thought. Her heart raced again. But it was time. She had to open it.


	29. DEAR MOLLY

_Dear Molly,_

_It's very nice to hear from you. The picture you sent of you and Edward was beautiful. It's nice that you and he got engaged! You make a wonderful couple. He may not be able to match you in beauty, but he's got enough intelligence to go around. You two have that in common._

_As for my duties here, it tends to vary by the day. We alternate shifts frequently so that no one gets stuck on call at night too many days in a row. There never seems to be an empty moment here. Between our work and the pranks and shenanigans that go on during down time, only once in awhile does it become truly boring._

_But when it is boring, it's extremely boring. Drinking seems to be the most popular pastime here, drinking and gambling. There was a day when two other doctors spent three hours throwing horseshoes because there was just nothing else to do._

_Yes we do treat Koreans, not just US soldiers. We just had a whole troupe of Korean children come to us for tetanus vaccinations these past few days, actually. They're very sweet. It's amazing to think how horrible life has treated them, yet they still act like children. It sort of restores your faith in humanity._

_How's San Francisco? One of the surgeons here is from Mill Valley! His wife Peg is back home with their baby daughter, Erin. He talks about home all the time. Makes me wonder what you're up to, and what Jack's up to. I hope everything's going well. Really I do._

_Ad Infinitum, Ad Meliora._

_Sincerely,_

_Nellie O'Hara_


	30. T*W*E*N*T*Y E*I*G*H*T

The morning dawned warmer than the past few days. As Nellie pulled herself from sleep, she heard a group of nurses talking outside her tent. It sounded like Bigelow and Lacey, but she couldn't make out what was being said. With practiced ease, Nellie pulled on her fatigues.

By the time she left her tent, Bigelow and Lacey had wandered off. Roy Goldman shot a basketball while Klinger and Zale stood by. She passed them by with a quick nod hello. Her stomach growled, so she went straight to the Mess Tent.

The whole medical staff sat eating when she had her food. Nellie slipped in beside Margaret. "Good morning."

"Not for him it's not." Hawkeye gestured with his fork to the Colonel.

Nellie frowned. "What's the matter?"

"Mumps and mumpettes have invaded his greatness."

"Oh no."

Margaret stood from the table. With a steady hand, she moved Potter out of his chair. "Let me help you to your tent, sir."

"I better warn you, Major, I get a might crotchety when I'm battling a bug. And I make one ornery patient."

"Well, I make one ornery nurse."

As they left, Nellie dug into her food. The powdered eggs somehow tasted less horrible than usual, and the milk wasn't half bad.

"We've got lots of wounded on the way," BJ told her. "Hill 403 again."

"Again?"

"They've gotta make a mountain of casualties out of a molehill. It's in their quota."

She huffed in agreement at Hawkeye's bitter joke. But then she frowned. "And now we're down a surgeon."

"Our faithful scrounger is doing his utmost to find us a replacement," said Charles. "Not that his utmost is much at all."

"Don't pick on Klinger."

"My dear, he is hardly worth defending-"

"Listen, Major. Klinger works as hard as any one of us, you included." Nellie put her fork down and glared his way. "Just because his way of working involves less surgery and more silk tongue doesn't make him any less important than me, or you for that matter. And don't even try a rebuttal. More pompous men than you have failed."

"I was done anyways."

BJ and Hawkeye laughed as Charles got up from the table, straightened himself, and took his tray to the garbage. The two other surgeons just smirked and watched him leave.

"Watch it Charles. Those mumpettes are coming for you!" Hawkeye called after him.

"He's never had them?"

BJ shook his head. "Nope."

They finished up breakfast. As more people filled the mess tent, they left and went to play horseshoes. Wounded were expected by the end of the day, and the waiting made everyone antsy. Hawkeye and Nellie didn't even speak about the prospect of the agreed upon date.

They'd been without wounded for half a week. She'd been starting to get used to it. Now the thought of the bleeding, broken bodies made a pit form in the deepest recesses of her stomach. Plus, if Klinger couldn't find them a surgeon, they'd be short handed.

"Major, Captains."

As Hawkeye grumbled over his most recent poor shot, Kellye came over. The deep frown she didn't even try to hide made them all turn serious instantly.

Hawkeye folded his arms. "What's up?"

"Three more nurses have the mumps. We're down to eight healthy. The VIP tent is full now."

"It's already almost noon," said BJ. He stroked his mustache. "Wounded should be here in another five hours. If they keep dropping like flies…"

"Sheesh."

Kellye nodded. "I'll go check on them again, see if they need anything else." She left them just as depressed as she'd come.

"I bring good news, oh great and powerful swamp rats."

They all turned. Klinger had a smile on his face and all but slipped over to them. The door to the hospital crashed closed behind him. Nellie just smiled back.

"Watch your language, heathen," Hawkeye replied. "To call your faithful leader in times of struggle a rat is dangerously close to insubordination."

"Guess you'll have to sign those discharge papers for me then, captain."

Nellie laughed. "The news, Klinger?"

"I have acquired us a new cutter. He should be here in less than an hour."

"Hey! Great! Let's go to the Swamp and celebrate like rats."

Hawkeye led the way to their tent. When he opened the door, they found Charles moaning in bed. Nellie had to suppress a smirk. But Hawkeye didn't hold back.

"Hey, Beej, did you order us a new cow?"

"Chuck, do you have the mumps?"

Klinger shouted in fear and scurried out of the tent. But Nellie and the other two surgeons just stared down at Charles with contempt. BJ told her to hang in the Swamp as they moved him to the Colonel's tent. With much objecting, they did so.

Her heart began to race again, as she stood alone in the Swamp. The camp felt deserted with the mumps epidemic putting half the staff in confinement, and the other half in hiding. She reached for a martini glass. Her hand shook. But it didn't stop her from pouring herself a glass of their gin.

Her throat tightened at the gulp and she hacked out a cough. Their stuff tasted truly awful. But the warmth that filled her body easily forgave the tang. Nellie sat herself down on Hawkeye's bunk. A few odds and ends lay about including a toothpick, a random sock, and a small stack of letters.

After a good ten minutes of sipping the gin, BJ and Hawkeye strolled back in. The latter walked to the Still. "I see you found the fountain of youth."

A laugh escaped her before she had a chance to think. She raised her glass. "To your fountain of youth."

"That I'll drink to," said BJ. "Pass the glass, Hawk."

"Aye, captain."

Nellie relinquished her spot on his cot, and moved to the extra one. For the next half hour, she listened to the gentle banter between the other two surgeons. Over and over her thoughts drifted to the incoming wounded. The way their blood oozed from their wounds, the clammy skin, bloodshot eyes, the screams and groans and hasty prayers…

"Your accommodations, complete with cellmates."

Nellie looked up. Klinger opened the Swamp door and brought in a newcomer. He stood as tall as BJ and Hawkeye, with medium brown hair and round glasses. It made her pause. She swore she recognized him from somewhere.

"Gentlemen, I give you Dr. Newsome."

"Hey! That was fast. I'm Hawkeye, he's BJ."

"That's catchy, I'm just plain-"

"Steve!" Realization dawned on Nellie as she heard his last name. Standing, she moved her way to stand next to BJ. "You went to Johns Hopkins, right? Nellie O'Hara."

"Ah yes! One half of the legendary feminine dynamic duo." He nodded and smiled. "I remember you. Didn't know they were drafting women, now."

"They're not. I volunteered."

Steve shook his head. "No accounting for taste.'

BJ laughed. He turned to Klinger. "How'd you get him here so fast?"

"That's a secret. If he asks you where the beach is, change the subject."

As Klinger ducked out of the Swamp, drinks were poured for all of them. Nellie took a new one from BJ. Glad for the drink, she went back to sit on the extra cot.

"This is quite a lovely spot you have here." Steve looked around. Gesturing to the Still, he nodded his approval.

"It's not much, but we like to call it hell."

"We just came for a weekend."

"Now we may never leave."

"You're probably here on the American plan."

Smiles all around. Hawkeye took a drink and then gestured to Steve. "Now, see here, Newsome, that remark shows a complete lack of respect for this man's army and all that it stands for. And I resent the fact that you beat me to it."

They talked for a few minutes. Steve told them he was stationed at H.Q. in Tokyo. For the past two days he'd been at a seminar in Seoul. When Klinger had called, he'd been the one available. Hawkeye and BJ made a few jokes about him being in such a cushy job. But Nellie didn't miss how his smile faltered, and he quieted down. As fast as he'd let his guard down, he'd forced the smile back up.

Then the call went up.

**"Attention! Choppers. Don't think it's presents from home!"**

The pit in her stomach consumed her entire chest. Nellie downed the rest of her martini glass as BJ and Hawkeye led Steve out of the Swamp. Quickly, she followed. BJ took a team to the chopper pad, and Hawkeye sent Nellie with Steve to get him scrubbed.

"This way." She had to jump out of the way as a pair of ambulances careened into the compound. It took great effort to tear herself away from the mania and head inside. But she did.

Nellie showed Steve the men's changing room. Crossing into the women's side, she nearly bumped into Kellye. She, Shelley, and Bigelow stood changing. Margaret left them to scrub. The butterflies in her stomach quieted. Pull off the fatigues, pull on the white scrubs. Her hair went under her scalp cap. She tied on the bottom part of her surgical mask.

When she pushed into the scrub room, Steve was using the left sink. His movements seemed practiced. Nellie watched him briefly before she started on her routine. Their paths had crossed a few times at Johns Hopkins, mostly because one of his friends had been Molly's ex-boyfriend. Steve had always been a funny guy, prone to jokes and light humor. He'd been a year ahead of them. At parties, he'd be the first one to volunteer to go grab drinks.

They'd only talked in depth a few times. Her opinion of him remained rather high, as he never seemed against her presence at the medical school. Any male surgeon who didn't look down on her stayed high in her books. But as she watched him scrub, his smile bothered her. She remembered his smile. It'd been warm, goofy. This smile was anything but. His hands shook ever so slightly under the rushing water.

But then, so did hers. Nellie focused on herself. Up, down, up, down, up, down, rinse. The soap lathered all the way up nearly to her shoulders. Once the washing ended, she used two fingers to grab a sterilized towel and pat dry her arms. Bigelow fastened the top of her mask and helped pull on her top scrubs. With a deep breath, Nellie followed Steve into the OR. Behind them, Hawkeye and BJ were finishing up.

"I need gloves!"

With a snap, Gwen put them on. Her emotions calmed. She knew this. This was normal. She'd been here a month. This was normal.

Nellie took her place at the table. As she looked down at her first patient, the sound of surgical gloves being stretched and snapped onto someone's hands jolted her attention up. Steve took his own place. The shaking of his hands didn't stop until a scalpel lay between his fingers. Nellie turned back to her patient.

"Scalpel."

**Author's Note:**

> "There is very little that is not wasteful and dismal about war. The only clear, deep, good is the special kind of bond welded between people who, having mutually shared a crisis, whether it be a shelling or a machine-gun attack, emerge knowing that those involved behaved well. There is much pretence in our everyday life, and, with a skillful manner, much can be concealed.
> 
> "But with a shell whistling at you there is not much time to pretend and a person's qualities are starkly revealed. You believe that you can trust what you have seen. It is a feeling that makes old soldiers, old sailors, old airmen, and even old war correspondents, humanly close in a way shut off to people who have not shared the same thing."
> 
> \- Marguerite Higgins


End file.
